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A  UTHOR: 


PAGE,  THOMAS  NELSON 


TITLE: 


DANTE  AND  HIS 
INFLUENCES;  STUDIES 


PLACE: 


NEW  YORK 


DATE: 


1922 


COLUMBIA  UNIVEI^ITY  LIBRARIES 
PRESERVATION  DEPARTMENT 


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Page,  Thomas  Nelson,  1853-1922. 

...  Dant«  and  his  influence;  studies  by  Thomas  Nelson  Page 
...     New  York,  C.  Scribner's  sons,  1922. 

xvl,   239  p.    2   port.  (Incl.   front.)     19J«.     (University   of  Virginia. 
Florence  Latlirop  Pa'ce-Barbour  foundation.    [Lectures]) 

-    Copy  in  Pfiterno. 19??2, 


1.  Danto — Criticism,  interpretation,  etc.    2.  Dante — Influence. 


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22—20550 


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DANTE  AND  fflS  INFLUENCE 


n 


BOOKS  IN  THE 

PAGE-BARBOUR  FOUNDATION 

UNIVERSITY  OF  VIRGINIA 


DAHTE  AND  HIS  nfFLUBNCE.     Studi— 
By  Thomas  Nelson  Page 

THE  ART  OF  BIOORAPHT 

By  William  Roscoe  Thayer 

PROBLEMS  OF  LAW 

By  John  Henry  Wigmore 

IHB  OlUOmS  OF  THE  TRIFLE  ALLIANCR 
By  A.  C.  Coolidge 

THE  CONFLICT  BETWEEN  INDIVIDnAUSM  AKD 
COLLECTIVISM  IN  A  DEMOCRACY 
By  Charlea  W.  Eliot 

THB    EARLY    UTERARY    CAREER    OF   ROBERT 
BROWNING 

By  Thomas  R.  Lounsbuiy 


CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


\i 


GIOTTO  S   DANTE    IN  THE    BARGELLO 
AS    RESTORED    BY  MARINI 


GIOTTO  S   DANTK    IN  THE   BAR(;hLI.O 
AS    RESTORFD    BY  MA  RIM 


'  t 


■  V 


University  of  Virginia 
Florence  Lathrop  Page-Barbour  Foundation 


DANTE  AND  fflS  INFLUENCE 


STUDIES 


BY 


THOMAS  NELSON  PAGE,  D.Lrr.,  LL.D. 

AxrmoR  or  "ixaly  and  ihi  wosld  wai,"  bj^ 


NEW  YORK 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 

1923 


CD 

-J 

Q 


CM 

CD 


CD 


ComiesT.  1922,  ■» 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


printed  in  the  United  States  of  AmeriCi 
..  Published  October.  1923  . 


DEDICATED  TO  THE  MEMORY  OF 
THE   FOUNDRESS  OF 

THE  FLORENCE  LATHROP  PAGE-BARBOUR 
LECTURE  FOUNDATION 

AT  THE   UNIVERSITY  OF  VIRGINIA 

WHO  WAS  EVER  MOVED  BY 

"VAMOR  CHE  MOVE  IL  SOLE  E  VALTRE  STELLB** 


PUBLISHER'S  NOTE 


THE  PAGE-BARBOUR  LECTURE 
FOUNDATION 

The  University  of  Virginia  is  indebted  for 
the  establishment  of  the  Page-Barbour  Foun- 
dation to  the  wisdom  and  generosity  of  Mrs. 
Thomas  Nelson  Page,  of  Washington,  D.  C. 
In  1907,  Mrs.  Page  donated  to  the  University 
the  sum  of  $22,000,  the  annual  income  of 
which  is  to  be  used  in  securing  each  session 
the  delivery  before  the  University  of  a  series 
of  not  less  than  three  lectures  by  some  dis- 
tinguished man  of  letters  or  of  science.  The 
conditions  of  the  Foundation  require  that  the 
Page-Barbour  lectures  for  each  session  be  not 
less  than  three  in  number;  that  they  be  de- 
livered by  a  specialist  in  some  branch  of  liter- 
ature, science,  or  art;  that  the  lecturer  present 

vu 


irlH 


PUBLISHER'S  NOTE 


in  the  series  of  lectures  some  fresh  aspect  or 
aspects  of  the  department  of  thought  in  which 
he  is  a  specialist;  and  that  the  entire  series  de- 
livered each  session,  taken  together,  shall  pos- 
sess such  unity  that  they  may  be  published  by 
the  Foundation  in  book  form. 


m^^ 


v» 

CONTENTS 

PACK 

I.    Dante  and  His  Time  .....  i 

II.    Dante  and  Florence 50 

III.  Dante's  Prose 89 

IV.  Dante   and   Boccaccio;    Petrarch; 

English  Poets 117 

V.    The  Divine  Comedy 152 

VI.    Dante  and  His  Teaching     ...  193 

VII.    Dante's  and  Italian  NATioNALrrv  .  223 

VIII.    Dante  and  Italian  Aspiration  .     .232 

IX.    Dante  the  Master  .    •    •    •      .    .  237 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Giotto's  Dante  in   the   Bargello,   as   restored  by 
Marini Frontispiece 


Dante  from  Orcagna's  fresco  of  the  Last  Judgment 
in  the  Strozzi  Chapel,  Sta.  Maria  Novella      .     . 

Facing  page 


86 


The  illustrations  are  reproduced  from  The  Portraits  of  Dante 
through  courtesy  of  the  author,  Frank  Jewett  Mather,  Jr. 


INTRODUCTION 


In  presenting  this  study  of  Dante  Alighieri, 
Poet,  Seer,  Educator,  I  would  not  claim  that 
I  can  add  anything  new  to  the  vast  volume  of 
interpretation  which  devotion  and  scholarship 
have,  at  least  in  Italy,  piled  during  these  six 
hundred  years — and  more  recently  in  other 
countries — about  his  revered  name.  All  that 
is  even  pretended  is  to  present  in  succinct 
form  a  brief  sketch  of  the  life  of  the  Poet  of 
Poets  and  of  the  conditions  amid  which  that 
life  was  cast,  together  with  certain  considera- 
tions which  a  study  of  Dante  and  his  Time, 
thrown  on  the  screen  of  the  recent  past,  has 
led  me  to  believe  should  be  of  interest  to  those 
engaged  in  giving  or  receiving  instruction. 

In  my  humble  judgment  the  educational 
work  of  this  Country  is  the  most  important 
work  going  on  in  America  to-day.  On  it  de- 
pends the  future  of  the  Country  whether  for 
weal  or  woe.  And  in  the  education  of  this 
Country  the  work  of  Dante  is  a  power,  that 
if  used  must  exert  a  vital  influence  upon  its 


l^ 


IIV 


INTRODUCTION 


INTRODUCTION 


XT 


IV. 


future,  and  if  neglected,  must,  whether  recog- 
nized or  not,  be  an  immeasurable  loss  to  us. 
It  is,  in  fact,  like  the  great  water-power  of  the 
Italian  mountains  which,  if  understood  and 
utilized,  brings  wealth  and  power  alike  to  the 
State  and  to  the  citizen,  and  if  not  used  is  a 
loss  which  marks  but  the  ignorance  and  the  in- 
efficiency of  the  people. 

What  is  Education?  It  is  not  mere  book- 
learning— that  is  only  an  instrument  for  use 
in  Education.  It  is  not  even  mere  knowledge. 
It  is  the  knowledge  how  to  use  Knowledge. 
It  IS  understanding.  "Get  Knowledge,"  says 
the  educator  whom  we  call  the  wisest  of  men, 
**but  withal  get  understanding." 
f  Dante  AHghieri  is  the  expression  of  under- 
standing. He  has  been  the  educator,  the  ex- 
pression of  understanding  in  Italy  these  six 
hundred  years;  his  power  and  influence  have 
extended  among  other  nations  even  where  they 
were  not  recognized  as  his.  He  is  essentially 
the  educator  who  is  needed  to-day;  for  he  is 
the  great  Spiritual  Educator.  " 

In  this  brief  study  there  is  little  space  to 
enter  upon  the  metaphysical  discussion  which 
has  surrounded  and  at  times  befogged  the 
work  of  the  Poet  since  that  autumn  day  when, 


having  returned  to  the  Court  of  Guido  da 
Polenta,  worn  down  and  ill  from  his  unsuccess- 
ful mission  of  Peace  to  Venice  and  from  his 
long  journey  beside  the  pestilential  marshes  of 
the  low  malarial  region  of  the  western  shore 
of  the  Gulf  of  Venice,  he  gave  to  the  Lord  of 
Polenta  the  report  of  his  last  mission  and, 
leaving  to  posterity,  in  imperishable  form,  the 
report  of  his  Great  Mission,  ceased  from  his 
long  exile  and  rejoined  Beatrice  in  Paradise. 

Not  a  metaphor,  hardly  a  line  of  his  that 
since  that  day  has  not  been  subjected  to  the 
closest  scrutiny  and  the  most  minute  analysis, 
in  which  he  has  sufl^ered  almost  as  much  from 
the  ill-conceived   adulation  of  Panegyrists  as 
from  the  hostility  of  enemies.     But,  although 
the  whole  body  of  his  writings  and  especially 
the  Divine  Comedy  are  a  great  allegory  of  the 
soul's  regeneration  and   although  Dante  ever 
painted  throughout  his  work  allegories  and  rec- 
ondite symbols  and  packed  trope  and  meta- 
phor with   mystical  and  hidden  meaning;  to 
carry  the  analysis  of  his  noble  poem  so  far  as 
to  destroy  its  incomparable  poetry,  seems  like 
measuring  with  a  foot-rule  the  lance  of  Don 
Quixote   or   surveying   with   a  compass    and 
chain  the  forest  of  Arden. 


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INTRODUCTION 


This  study  is  addressed  rather  to  discussion 
of  the  place  that  Dante  occupies  amid  the  con- 
stellations and  of  the  light  that  has  beamed 
from  him  upon  mankind,  and  the  writer  will 
rest  content  to  be  in  the  position  of  a  child 
who  taken  out  in  the  night  points  to  the  Heavens 
and  exclaims  with  awed  wonder  and  delight: 
"Oh!  see  the  stars  I" 

T.  N.  P. 


\\ 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TIME 

Only  by  taking  into  consideration  the  con- 
ditions relative  to  which  any  great  work  has 
been  produced  can  a  just  idea  be  had  of  the 
proportions  of  the  accompHshment. 

It  will  not  be  amiss  then  to  advert  briefly 
at  the  outset  to  the  conditions  which  existed 
when  a  little  more  than  six  hundred  years  ago 
Dante  Alighieri  had  the  vision,  which,  deliber- 
ately discarding  the  language  of  scholarship, 
whose  champion  he  had  hitherto  been,  he  now 
— ^with  a  loftier  aim  and  a  broader  scope  than 
the  mere  scholar's,  gave  to  mankind  in  the 
common  tongue  of  Italy,  under  the  name  of 
La  Commedia  (The  Comedy),  to  which  his 
admiring  people  some  two  centuries  and  a  half 
later  added  the  title:  "Divine." 

It  is  easy  now  to  cross  the  sea;  yet  that 
voyage  of  Columbus  still  surpasses  all  others. 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TIME 


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And  when  Dante  Alighieri  laid  aside  the  lan- 
guage of  scholarship,  whose  champion,  earnest, 
haughty,  and  somewhat  disdainful  he  had  been, 
as  was  his  wont,  and  took  the  dialects  of  Italy 
as  the  medium  of  his  great  message,  he  mounted 
to  a  higher  level  and  with  all  his  learning  ad- 
dressed a  wider  audience  than  the  scholarship 
of  Florence  or  Verona  or  Ravenna  or  even  of 
Italy  and  Provence;  for  he  addressed  the  heart 
of  the  World— the  heart  of  Mankind  in  all  suc- 
ceeding ages  and  in  all  climes.     From  a  gram- 
marian he  became  a  creator  of  a  great  lan- 
guage, from  a  provincial  partisan  he  became  a 
crusader  in  the  mighty  cause  of  the  Kingdom 
of  God ;  from  a  Prior  of  Florence  he  became  the 
creator    of   the    national    consciousness    of   a 
people,  and  a  Prior  of  mankind;  from  a  charm- 
ing singer  he  became  a  great  poet  and  seer; 
from  a  mediaeval  scholar  he  became  the  herald 
of  a   new   Dawn,   hymning   the   Passion   and 
Progress  of  the  Human  soul,  the  struggle  of 
Mankind  between  Sin  and  Righteousness,  and 
the  Might,  Majesty,  and   Dominion  of  God, 
whom  to  fear  is  the  Beginning  of  Wisdom  and 
whom  reverently  to  adore  is  Salvation. 

Should  it  be  asked  what  has  a  poet  to  do 
with  Education  in  this  practical,  modern  world, 


let  the  questioner  remember  that  Aristotle's 
pupil,  Alexander  the  Great,  himself  no  mean 
judge  of  the  military  science,  kept  the  poems 
of  Homer  in  the  jewel-casket  of  Darius  and 
slept  with  them  under  his  pillow,  declaring  them 
the  best  compendium  of  the  art  of  war. 

This,  I  assume  to  signify  not  that  Homer 
was  a  trained  Strategist  or  Tactician  in  the 
military  science;  but  that  Alexander,  the  pupil 
of  Aristotle,  held  that  to  be  a  great  Captain 
one  must  have  the  Imagination  fully  devel- 
oped, and  that  the  poems  of  Homer  tended  to 
expand  the  Imagination. 

The  Poet  has  everything  to  do  with  Educa- 
tion. In  all  ages  the  Poets  have  been  the 
Educators  of  the  world.  And  as  Educators  in 
their  souls  approach  the  Poet  they  become 
better  educators.  As  their  imaginations  are 
elevated  they  approach  the  Ideal.  And  if  we 
are  going  to  accept  Milton's  definition  of  Edu- 
cation, of  all  Poets  of  modern  times,  Dante 
Alighieri  was,  perhaps,  the  greatest  educator. 
He  possibly  had  a  greater  influence  on  the 
course  of  Civilization  than  any  other  one  man 
since  his  day.  Dante's  contribution  to  the 
world  was  one  of  ideas  that  advanced  the 
cause  of  Righteousness. 


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DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


James  Russell  Lowell,  among  our  greatest 
students  of  Dante  and  best  Dante-scholars,  in 
his  address  on  the  occasion  of  the  two  hundred 
and  fiftieth  anniversary  of  the  foundation  of 
Harvard,  proclaims  eloquently  the  superiority 
of  intelleaual  to  material  wealth.  "The  real 
value  of  a  country,"  he  declared,  "must  be 
weighed  in  scales  more  delicate  than  the  bal- 
ance of  trade.  The  garners  of  Sicily  are 
empty  now;  but  the  bees  of  all  climes  still 
fetch  honey  from  the  tiny  garden-plot  of  The- 
ocritus. On  a  map  of  the  world  you  may  cover 
Judea  with  your  thumb;  Athens  with  a  finger- 
tip, and  neither  of  them  figures  in  the  Prices- 
Current;  but  they  still  lord  it  in  the  thought 
and  action  of  every  civilized  man.  Did  not 
Dante  cover  with  his  hood  all  that  was  Italy 
six  hundred  years  ago?  And  if  we  go  back 
a  century  where  was  Germany,  outside  of 
Weimar?  Material  success  is  good;  but  only 
as  the  necessary  preliminary  of  better  things. 
The  measure  of  a  nation's  true  success  is  the 
amount  it  has  contributed  to  the  thought,  the 
moral  energy,  the  intellectual  happiness,  the 
spiritual  hope  and  consolation  of  mankind." 

Many    even    of  those   who   claim   to   love 
poetry  and  to  find  refreshment  in  the  crystal 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TIME 


founts  declare  themselves  unable  to  find  the 
poetry  in  Dante,  or  to  comprehend  his  long, 
intricate,  and  labored  astronomical  plan  through 
which,  as  through  a  maze,  Virgil  guides  his 
patient  follower.  We  may  leave  all  this  to  those 
interested,  like  Dante,  in  the  Ptolemaic  System. 
Yet,  when  the  key  is  held  it  is  all  simple.  It 
needs  not  that  we  enter  into  it  further  than  to 
say,  that  Lucifer  thrown  down  from  Heaven 
fell  to  Earth  and  sank  down  into  Hell,  into  the 
bottomless  pit  at  the  centre  of  the  Earth,  whose 
waters  shrank  from  the  foul  contact  to  the 
Southern  hemisphere.  On  the  opposite  side 
from  an  island  in  the  Southern  Seas  rises  the 
mountain  of  Purgatory,  its  base  encircled  by 
the  atmosphere,  its  terraces  crowned  by  the 
earthly  paradise,  steeped  in  eternal  light,  about 
which  revolve  the  heavens  of  the  planets  and 
fixed  stars,  and  high  above  all  is  Heaven,  the 
seat  of  God,  where  he  abides  in  ineffable  light 
eternal. 

If  they  shrink  from  his  comprehensive  and 
apparently  intricate  symbolism,  let  them  but 
get  hold  of  the  thread  at  the  start  and  the  clew 
will  unwind  itself  as  easily  as  that  by  follow- 
ing which,  Theseus  escaped  from  the  Cretan 
Labyrinth. 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


His  system  is  less  complicated  than  appears 
at  first  view.  He  divides  Hell  into  seven 
circles  (some  find  three  great  divisions),  for  the 
punishment  of  the  seven  deadly  sins,  non- 
knowledge  of  Christ,  Lust;  Gluttony;  Avarice 
and  Prodigality,  Anger  and  Sullenness,  Heresy; 
Violence  and  Fraud.  The  Seventh  deep  is 
itself  divided  into  two  parts,  the  first  of  them 
assigned  to  those  who  committed  violence 
against  their  neighbor,  themselves  and  God. 
The  lowest  hell  of  all  is  for  those  guilty  of 
Fraud — the  Betrayal  of  Women,  Flattery;  Sim- 
ony; False  Prophecy;  Peculation;  Hypocrisy; 
Thefts;  False  Counsel;  Schism  and  Imposture; 
Treachery  to  those  who  trusted.  To  each 
class  of  sinners  is  assigned  the  terrible  punish- 
ment adjudged  suited  to  the  sin.  Through 
these  several  circles — "deep  within  deep" — led 
by  Virgil  typifying  Learning,  Poetry  and 
worldly  wisdom  who  has  been  sent  to  him  by 
Beatrice,  who  typifies  Divine  Wisdom  and 
Grace,  the  Poet  passes  to  Purgatory,  where  like- 
wise there  are  seven  circles  or  cornices  wherein 
Souls  are  purified  from  Pride,  Envy;  Wrath, 
Indifference,  Avarice;  Gluttony  and  Lust,  to 
which  are  opposed  the  seven  Virtues:  Hu- 
manity; Kindness  or  Charity;  Patience;  Zeal; 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TIME 


Poverty;  Abstinence  and  Chastity.  And  above 
Purgatory  is  the  Earthly  Paradise  from  which 
the  purified  soul  enters  into  the  ineffable  Light 
of  the  presence  of  God. 

What  do  we  know  of  Dante — we  Americans  ? 
We  think  of  him  mainly  as  an  Italian  Poet  of 
the  Middle  Ages — much  talked  of,  especially 
just  now,  by  those  who  like  or  pretend  to  like 
foreign  writers — who  wrote,  in  incomprehen- 
sible verse,  an  imaginative  and  lurid  account 
of  a  dismal  journey  through  a  lurid  Hell — a 
long  poem  containing  certain  phrases  which 
have  caught  the  attention  of  the  world,  such 
as,  "All  hope  abandon,  Ye,  who  enter  here,'* 
and  relieved  by  a  few  touches  of  poetry,  such 
as  that  relating  to  Francesca  da  Rimini. 
And  we  know  that  this  was  followed  by  two 
other  poems  called  Purgatory  and  Paradise; 
but  of  no  special  merit  or  interest.  We  know 
that  he  is  said  by  the  Brahmin-class  of  Intel- 
lectuals or  would-be  Intellectuals,  to  be  a  great 
poet  and  we  accept  their  verdict  as  we  accept 
their  theory  of  the  Law  of  Gravitation  and 
would  equally  accept  that  of  Relativity  if  gen- 
erally held,  without  knowing  or  caring  much 
about  it.  Or,  at  most,  do  we  not  think  of  him 
as  a  poet,  great  enough,  indeed,  to  have  secured 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TIME 


I 


I 


the  admiration  of  the  reading  world  because 
of  his  vivid  description  of  a  journey  through 
Hell? 

And  then  our  thoughts  revert  to  Milton,  the 
great  English  Poet  whom  we  claim  as  our  own, 
with  a  certain  smug  satisfaction,  as  who  should 
say:  "Can  anything  equal  to  this  come  out  of 
Italy?" 

It  is  discreditable  to  us  that  we  should  be 
so  ignorant  of  and  so  indifferent  to  a  work 
which  did  much  to  call  Italy  to  a  new  birth; 
and  which  opened  the  imposing  procession  of 
Italian  poetry  and  afterward  of  English  poetry 
—a  work  which  was  the  first  budding  of  the 
spring  which  produced  so  rich  a  harvest  in 
the  summer  and  autumn  that  have  followed; 
which  broke  down  the  doors  and  brought 
Chaucer,  Spenser,  Shakespeare,  and  Milton 
into  the  light  and  showed  them  the  way  to 
spread  their  pinions  and  rise  into  the  high 
regions  of  a  more  spiritual  art;  which  cracked 
the  shackles  of  Medievalism,  and  led  the 
way  to  the  emancipation  of  man's  thought; 
which  taught  Luther  to  nail  his  theses  on  the 
doors  of  the  Schlosskirche  at  Wittenberg  and 
to  burn  the  Bull  of  excommunication  and 
consign    Leo   to   the    Inferno    as   Dante    had 


consigned  his  predecessor,  Boniface;  which 
gave  John  Calvin  his  heaviest  ammunition 
to  wage  the  warfare  of  his  grim  theology. 
No  book  in  all  the  world,  save  the  Bible,  and 
perhaps  the  works  of  Homer,  have  had  such 
an  influence  on  the  progress  of  Civilization  as 
we  understand  it  in  Christendom,  as  that 
which  we  inconsiderately  consign  to  the  dusty 
shelves  of  some  public  Institutional  Library. 

It  is  a  discredit  to  us  that  we  should  be  so 
ignorant  of  the  greatest  contribution  to  the 
thought  of  the  world  that  was  made  in  the 
Middle  Ages.  It  is  a  discredit  to  us  that  in 
our  application  to  the  practical  we  so  tend  to 
exalt  the  commercial  and  forget  the  ideal,  that 
we  have  become  known  to  some  of  the  other 
Peoples  as  a  commercial  People  and  not  an 
idealistic  People.  Ideas,  at  last,  control  the 
world  and  promote  the  progress  of  mankind 
with  a  power  far  beyond  any  power  of  the 
material. 

Moses  led  the  Children  of  Israel  to  freedom 
and  power,  though  he  never  trod  the  promised 
land.  Columbus  opened  the  way  to  the  New 
World,  though  he  touched  only  its  island  fringe 
and  Amerigo  Vespucci  gave  it  his  name; 
Langley  discovered  the  principle  of  the  air- 


lO 


DANTB  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


BANTE  AND  HIS  TIME 


II 


plane,  though  the  Wrights  invented  the  prac- 
tical machine. 

In  presenting  Dante,  as  I,  a  humble  student 
of  his  great  work,  would  like  to  do,  I  find  that 
my  pleasant  task  divides  itself  naturally  into 
three  parts. 

First:  The  situation  of  the  world  when 
Dante  came,  and  the  conditions  among  which 
he  sprang  to  his  stature  together  with  some 
description  of  what  he  appeared  to  his  con- 
temporaries. 

Secondly:  His  earlier  work  and  progress 
toward  his  later  complete  accomplishment. 

And  thirdly :  His  great  work  and  its  influence 
on  the  course  of  Civilization. 

We  all  know  the  great  contribution  made  to 
the  world  by  the  Genoese,  Christopher  Colum- 
bus, but  how  few  know  of  the  contribution 
made  by  the  Florentine,  Dante  Alighieri. 
Yet,  as  Columbus,  two  hundred  years  later, 
with  his  Italian  imagination  discovered  and 
opened  up  a  new  world  for  Nations  of  which 
he  had  never  heard  or  dreamed,  no  less  than 
for  Spain  under  whose  flag  he  sailed;  so  Dante, 
sailing  on  a  vaster  Ocean,  discovered  a  vaster 
world  and  opened  up  wider  regions  for  the 
inspiration  of  mankind. 


It  can  hardly  be  doubted  that  Dante  came 
to  America  with  Christopher  Columbus,  if  not 
in  the  locker  of  the  Santa  Maria,  the  Nina, 
or  the  Pinta,  at  least  in  his  memory;  for  every 
Italian  knew  Dante  as  the  Greek  of  old  knew 
iEschylus,  Sophocles,  and  Euripides  so  as  to 
correct  a  false  quantity  by  a  recitationist. 
Certainly  Dante  came  over  with  his  fellow 
Florentine,  Amerigo  Vespucci. 

Amerigo  Vespucci  held  that  Dante's  refer- 
ence in  the  first  Canto  of  Purgatory  to  the 


« 


Four  stars  ne'er  seen  before  save  by  the  ken 
Of  our  first  parents," 


was  a  prophecy  of  the  Discovery  of  America. 

Who  shall  say  what  part  Dante  performed 
in  firing  the  imagination  of  Christopher  Co- 
lumbus .?  What  efl^ect  on  his  conclusion  touch- 
ing the  sphericity  of  the  Earth—Dante's  con- 
ception of  the  concentric  circles  of  depth  and 
height  and  Dante's  idea  of  the  globe  may  have 
had  on  Columbus's  thoughtful  mind  ? 

To  obtain  a  proper  Idea  of  Dante  and  his 
work  requires  a  knowledge  of  his  time  and 
surroundings  as  a  sort  of  screen  on  which  to 
project  the  poet.    Thus  only  can  a  just  con- 


I 


^1 


13 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


i 


w 


ception  be  had  of  his  majestic  proportions. 
And  when  we  shall  have  got  the  true  measure 
be  very  sure  that  his  statue  will  stand  as  the 
symbol  of  Italian  genius  to  which  America 
owes  so  vast  a  debt. 

Poetry  is  the  spiritual  expression  of  its  age 
and  environment.  Of  no  Poet  is  this  truer 
than  of  Dante.  His  work  contains  a  reflec- 
tion of  the  whole  life  about  him,  and  stands 
after  six  hundred  years  as  the  universal  re- 
vealer  of  the  thought  and  temper  of  the  Middle 
Age  at  its  close,  with  which  close,  indeed,  he 
had  no  little  to  do.  For  as  WyclifFe  later,  fol- 
lowing his  example,  headed  the  New  Learn- 
ing in  England  and  with  his  translation  of  the 
Bible  into  the  Vulgar  tongue,  brought  up  the 
English  language  and,  so  to  speak,  crystallized 
It  into  an  imperishable  medium  for  the  thought 
and  aspiration  of  the  Saxon  World,  so  Dante, 
the  leader  of  them  all,  had  already  placed  on 
the  walls  of  his  Age  the  imperishable  picture 
of  his  time  and  opening  wide  the  door  point- 
ed the  ItaHan  people  to  the  immortal  princi- 
ples of  Justice  and  Truth  and  with  the  en- 
chantment of  his  genius  turned,  however 
slowly,  their  faces  to  a  new  dawn  and  a  brighter 
day. 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TIME 


n 


Dante  places  himself  sixth  in  order  of  great 
poets.  You  will  recall  the  fine  scene  in  the 
IVth  Canto  of  the  Inferno,  where  he  discovers 
"a  flame,  that  on  the  darkened  hemisphere 
prevailing,   shined" — and   how   he   asked   his 


guide: 


<« 


Questi  chi  son  che  hanno  cotanta  orranza 
Che  dal  modo  degli  altri  li  diparte?" 


"Who  are  these  that  boast 
Such  honor,  separate  from  the  rest  ? 


M 


Virgil  replies  that  their  honored  name  gained 
them  favor  even  in  Heaven.  Meantime,  he 
hears  a  voice: 

"Onorate  i'altissimo  poeta.**  •"^'^ 

And  as  the  voice  passes,  he  sees  four  mighty 
shades  advance  and  his  master  says: 

"Mira  colui  con  queila  spada  in  mano 
Che  vien  dinanzi  a  tre  si  come  sire^ 
Quegli  e  Omero,  poeta  sovrano, 
L'altro  e  Orazio,  satiro,  che  viene, 
Ovidio  e  il  terzo  e  T ultimo  e  Lucano." 


u 


Mark  that  one  with  the  sword  who  doth  precede 
The  three,  as  though  he  were  their  Lord. 
The  next  who  comes  is  Horace,  the  satirist, 
Ovid  is  third  and  last  comes  Lucan.' 


» 


14 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


And  the  poet  says: 

"G>si  vidt  adunar  la  bella  scuola 
Di  quei  signor  delP  altissimo  canto» 
Che  sopra  gli  altri  com'aquila  vola." 

''Thus  saw  I  assemble  the  fine  school 
Of  those  Lords  of  loftiest  song 
Who  like  the  eagle  soar  o'er  the  rest.* 

But  the  Eagle  knows  its  own  kind  and  after 
grave  conference  they  turn  to  Dante  and 
salute  him,  whereat  his  Master  smiles.  They 
did  him  yet  more  honor;  for  they  admitted  him 
sixth  of  that  high  company — of  those  "who 
know." 

I  think  though,  that  Posterity,  however 
Dante  may  have  been  content  with  his  place, 
will  recast  the  order  and  place  him  higher  in 
the  shining  rank.  Not  Horace,  for  all  his  wit 
and  grace,  nor  Lucan,  with  his  gifts  and  power, 
appears  to  us  of  quite  the  school  of  loftiest 
song,  and  there  are  at  least  one  or  two  more 
to  join  in  the  Eagle  Flight  and  soar  over  others. 

Not  many  even  of  the  great  poets  have  had 
the  fortune  of  international  fame  or  have  sur- 
vived to  posterity,  at  least  in  name.  Some 
have  come  down  to  us;  but  their  names  have 
been  lost.     When  they  have  survived,  be  very 


11^ 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TIME 


iS 


sure  that  they  have  struck  the  deep  fountains 
of  human  nature. 

You  can  count  them  on  the  fingers—David 
— or  those  whose  immortal  strains   bear  the 
name  of  "the  Sweet  Psalmist  of  Israel;"  Homer; 
Virgil;    Dante;    Shakespeare.     There   may   be 
others— a  few— Hebrew,  Greek,  Latin,  Italian, 
English,  as  to  whom  there  is  diversity  of  views. 
But  as  to  these  there  is  no  question.     All  ad- 
mit their  work — their  universality — even  those 
who  have  never  read  them,  but  only  read  of 
them,  bow  to  the  universal  verdict  and  accord 
them  the  palm  of  Immortality.     Each  of  them 
has  his  place  fixed  in  the  firmament.     It  would 
be,  perhaps,  a  futile  labor  to  compare  them  one 
with  another.     In  the  shining  galaxy  the  Shep- 
herd King  and  Psalmist  and  the  Blind  Harper 
of  Greece,  the  Monarch  of  sublimest  song  who 
like  an  eagle  soars  over  the  rest,  stand  possibly 
pre-eminent   in   the   estimation   of  the   Ages. 
But  certainly  for  the  modem  scholar  of  every 
race    and    tongue,    Dante    stands    nearest    to 
Homer  in  the  loftiness  of  his  flight  and  the 
immeasurable  sweep  of  his  pinions.     Next  to 
Homer  he  gave  forth  a  more  echoing  song  and 
mspired  a  more  numerous  and  tuneful  progeny. 
Like  Homer,  under  guise  of  earthly  strife,  he 


i6 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TIME 


17 


f\\ 


m 


\^' 


sang  of  the  conflict  of  Human  Passions  and  the 
immortal  struggle  of  the  Human  Soul. 

Should  a  question  arise  as  to  Virgil's  rant, 
let  it  be  sufficient  answer  that  Dante  chose 
him  among  all  the  great  to  be  his  "  Master  and 
Guide,"  through  the  vast  rounds  of  that  un- 
trodden world  whose  wondrous  griefs  he  has 
unveiled  to  all  the  ages. 

He  addresses  him  in  words  which  we  now 
may  well  address  to  Dante  himself: 

"Or  se'  tu  quel  Virgilio,  c  quella  fonte 
Che  spande  di  parlar  si  largo  fiume  ? 
Risposi  lui  con  vergognosa  fronte; 

O  degli  altri  poeti  onore  e  lume, 
Vagliami  il  lungo  studio  e  il  grande  amore, 
Che  m'han  fatto  cercar  lo  tuo  volume. 

Tu  se'lo  mio  maestro  e  M  mio  autore, 

Tu  se'  solo  colui,  da  chi  io  tolsi 

Lo  bello  stUe  che  m'ha  fatto  onore.** 

Art  thou  that  Virgil,  thou  that  mighty  fount 
That  spreads  abroad  so  vast  a  stream  of  song  ? 
O  honor  thou  and  light  of  other  poets ! 
May  it  avail  that  I  have  studied  long 
And  greatly  loved  thy  work  and  conned  it  wdL 
Thou  art  my  Master  and  my  very  source, 
From  whom  alone  I  took  the  noble  style 
Which  since  hath  brought  me  honor." 


It  must,  indeed,  be  a  cause  of  great  pride  to 
all  Italians  that  of  the  world's  greatest  poets 
who  have  enlightened  Mankind,  two  sprang 
from  Italian  soil,  and  of  the  others  one  owes 
his  regeneration  for  the  Modern  World  to 
Italian  scholarship  and  the  other  owes  Italy 
the  inspiration  for  some  of  his  greatest  work. 

The  oldest  civilized  people  of  Christendom 
and,  indeed,  of  the  World,  as  we  reckon  civili- 
zation, are  the  Italians.  Greece  had  her  civili- 
zation before  Italy  and,  in  certain  respects,  as 
of  Art  and  Philosophy,  had  a  higher  Civiliza- 
tion,  as  Egypt  and  Mesopotamia  and  the 
Orient  had  their  civilization  before  that  of 
Greece,  but  these  were  all  civilizations  of  a 
different  kind,  and  when  we  speak  of  civiliza- 
tion, it  imports  in  the  term  not  only  the  idea 
of  a  general  civic  order;  but  such  order  plus  the 
inner  spirit  of  Christianity.  And  of  this  West- 
ern Civilization  the  Italian  People  are  the  oldest 
exponent.  It  is  the  direct  successor  of  the 
Roman  People  who  gave  the  Civil  law;  Civic 
Order  and  Christianity  to  the  people  of  West- 
ern and  Northwestern  Europe.  It  is  not  un- 
common for  us  to  draw  a  great  distinction  be- 
tween the  Romans  of  old  and  the  Italians.  Yet 
the  Italian  is  among  the  least  changeable  of 


I 


♦I 


f 


iS 


PANTB  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TIME 


19 


H:i 


^\] 


■i) 


Races.  Of  all  the  occidental  races  the  Italian 
changes  least.  That  some  change  occurred 
under  the  Barbarian  invasion  appears  certain, 
and  traces  of  the  Lombards — ^the  Longbeards 
of  the  North — still  continue,  as  still  continue 
traces  of  Greek  and  Norman  in  the  South. 
But  the  Italian  race  of  to-day  differs  scarcely 
more  from  the  old  race  than  the  American  of 
to-day  on  the  Atlantic  slope  differs  from  the 
English  Churchmen  who  settled  Virginia,  Mary- 
land, and  the  Carolinas,  or  than  the  New  Eng- 
landers  differ  from  the  Puritans  who  settled 
New  England  from  whom  they  trace  descent. 
In  manners  and  customs  the  Italian  differs 
from  his  remote  predecessors  hardly  at  all. 
Many  a  little  paesf  in  Italy  has  distinctive 
customs  and  costumes  which  have  come  down 
through  the  centuries  unchanged,  jealously 
guarded  and  resisting  all  the  assaults  of  sur- 
rounding innovations;  and  as  they  have  pre- 
served the  outward  costumes  of  their  fathers, 
so  they  have  preserved  their  mental  traits. 
Italy  is  the  land  of  conservatism.  The  songs 
of  Italy  have  sounded  through  her  fields  and 
vineyards  with  plaintive  melody  through  long 
centuries;  her  religious  chants — many  of  them 
at  least — for  all  their  Christian  words,  were  in 


their  structure  originally  taken  from  hymns  to 
the  Bona  Dea  or  some  other  pagan  goddess. 
The  Gregorian  chants  were  intended  to  sup- 
plant them,  as  Pius  the  Tenth  in  his  revival  of 
Gregorian  Music  desired  to  banish  the  profane 
music  of  the  modern  opera.  Italy  is  the  land 
of  permanence,  as  America  is  the  land  of 
change.* 

With  something  of  the  Oriental  and  much  of 
the  Greek  Civilization,  which  it  had  taken  over, 
the  Roman  Civilization  had  imposed  itself  on 
the  Countries  about  it.  The  Roman  Eagles 
bore  to  and  protected  in  other  lands  the  ele- 
ments of  what  we  to-day  know  as  Civilization. 
And  although  in  many  instances  they  were 
later  expelled,  they  left  behind  them  seed 
enough  to  keep  alive  a  spirit  which  should 
under  refreshment  eventually  produce  the  fruit 
known  as  Modern  Civilization,  and  in  time 
nations  which  they  had  thus  brought  forward 
were  able  to  impose  something  of  the  form 
which  they  had  brought  forth  on  Rome 
itself. 

But  even  so,  and  even  although  the  seat  of 
the  Roman  Empire  was  moved  to  Byzantium, 

*  There  is  nothing  in  Italy,  native  to  it,  so  diverse  from  the 
ancient  dance  as  the  Tango  or  the  Turkey-Trot  it  from  the 
Minuet  and  the  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley. 


i 


fii 


30 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


as  nearer  the  centre  of  the  Empire  and  safer 
from  Barbarian  attack,  the  former  capital, 
Rome,  still  retained  sufficient  prestige  and  suffi- 
cient vigor  to  become  the  centre  of  Christen- 
dom and,  supported  by  Italian  intelligence,  was 
to  give  to  Christendom  modern  Civilization. 

Mediaeval  European  history  is  divided  into 
three  periods:  the  Dark  Ages  as  the  first  period 
after  the  fall  of  Rome  extending  to  the  time 
of  Charlemagne;  next,  the  Middle  Ages  cover- 
ing the  period  from  the  time  of  Charlemagne 
to  about  the  year  1300;  and  lastly,  the  Renais- 
sance, or  rebirth  of  Civilization  in  Europe. 

And  as  in  the  Roman  Days  from  Rome  flowed 
in  the  train  of  the  Eagles  the  Education  and 
Order  that  trained  Teuton  and  Frank;  Briton 
and  Celt;  so  in  later  time  flowed  from  Italy  the 
Light  that  was  to  Hghten  the  Gentiles.  Roman 
missionaries  christianized  Saxon  and  Frank 
Kings  and  later  carried  classical  learning  into 
the  wilds  of  France  and  England.  But  during 
the  Dark  Ages  this  learning  was  well-nigh  lost 
and  during  the  Middle  Ages,  though  it  was  re- 
vived, it  was  almost  confined  to  the  Church 
which,  largely  by  virtue  of  the  monopoly  of  its 
possession  and  of  the  ignorance  of  the  lay  world, 
was   enabled   to   assert   a   power   which   per- 


il 


1^ 
If 

.1  i 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TIME 


31 


vaded  Christendom;  rivalled  and  at  times  domi- 
nated the  power  of  the  successors  of  Augustus, 
Constantine  and  Charlemagne.  It  was  its 
possession  of  not  only  the  keys  of  St.  Peter, 
but  of  the  Keys  of  Knowledge  that  enabled  the 
Church  to  dominate  so  the  minds  of  men  that 
even  monarchs  trembled  before  the  terrors  of  its 
excommunication  and  barefoot  and  humble  be- 
sought with  open  shame  pardon  of  the  head 
of  this  mighty  power.  So  long  as  it  was  based 
on  a  truly  moral  foundation  it  was  supreme 
and  the  Temporal  Powers  could  be  counted  on 
to  support  and  advance  it,  using  its  spiritual 
authority  over  men's  minds  to  support  its  own 
temporal  authority.  It  was  only  when,  swollen 
with  worldly  pride,  it  asserted  its  claim  to 
Temporal  Power  that  men,  discovering  that 
such  an  assertion  was  merely  political  and  that 
Ecclesiastical  rule  in  political  aflFairs  was  worse 
than  Lay  rule,  revolted  against  it  as  an  usurpa- 
tion, and  finding  the  need  of  education  in  tem- 
poral knowledge  to  meet  the  evils  to  which  the 
Ecclesiastical  Monopoly  was  leading,  began  to 
pry  open  the  doors  which  closed  in  the  precious 
treasure  and,  gaining  access  thereto,  began 
with  it  to  enrich  the  world. 
The  wreck  of  the   Roman   Empire  at  the 


1 1 


22 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


W 


»!! 


;i| 


i 


III 


I 

( 


I 


hands  of  the  Barbarians — the  Bearded  folk, 
whom  it  had  brought  forward  through  its 
training,  especially  in  the  art  of  war,  left  the 
great  dominions  which  the  Roman  power  had 
controlled  a  prey  largely  to  Anarchy,  in  which 
the  only  power  recognized  was  force  and  the 
only  amelioration  was  the  spirit  of  the  doctrine 
which  the  single  organization  that  remained 
cohesive:  the  great  Church,  taught,  even  if  it 
did  not  always  practise. 

Gradually  this  condition  of  Anarchy  took  to 
itself  some  form  of  ordered  force  and  as  the 
fragments  took  shape,  under  the  genius  of 
Charlemagne  a  new  Empire  containing  the 
semblance  of  the  old  Empire  came  into  being 
in  the  West  and  its  able  head,  allying  himself 
with  the  head  of  the  Spiritual  Power,  was 
crowned  Emperor  at  Rome  at  Christmas  of  the 
year  800.  Then  began  a  new  regime,  which 
like  its  predecessors,  passed  through  one  phase 
after  another  following  natural  laws  and  af- 
fected by  natural  condiuons  until  Nations  and 
States  began  to  take  form,  based  upon  or  grow- 
ing out  of  what  came  to  be  known  as  the 
Feudal  system  because  its  foundation  was  a 
title  or  fee  held  from  some  overlord  who  in 
consideration  of  service  rendered  by  the  vassal. 


)-^ 


• 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TIME 


«5 


should  give  him  protection;  and  therefore,  a 
mutual  duty  was  owed  by  the  one  to  the  other. 
And  still,  the  one  power  which  extended  across 
boundaries  was  the  power  of  the  Church  with 
its  centre  at  Rome  and  its  ever-increasing 
claims  generally  recognized  even  by  the  heads 
of  States. 

This  Feudal  system,  however,  fortified  in 
walled  towns  and  stone  castles,  supported  by 
the  sword,  the  torture  and  the  dungeon,  be- 
came in  great  regions  a  new  form  of  tyranny 
and,  indeed,  of  anarchy,  wide-spread  and  so 
destructive  that  eventually  it  defied  alike  both 
the  supreme  temporal  and  spiritual  power — 
alike  Emperor  and  Pope.  The  system  resulted 
in  a  state  of  well-nigh  universal  war,  and  even 
of  private  warfare  which  the  Church  itself 
was  compelled  to  recognize  and  which  it  was 
fain  to  ameliorate  by  securing  what  came  to  be 
known  as  "the  truce  of  God";  that  is,  a  com- 
mon agreement  to  abstain  from  warfare  from 
Wednesday  night  to  Monday  morning,  and 
not  to  make  war  on  days  consecrated  to  high 
Church  festivals. 

And  now  a  brief  glance  at  the  conditions 
existing  in  the  world  in  the  latter  part  of  the 
thirteenth  century  when  in  the  month  of  May, 


>  i^.- 


24 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


m 


Hi 


i[ ! 


I 


H 


1265,  in  the  small,  but  wealthy  city  and  Re- 
public of  Florence,  Dante  Alighieri,  son  of 
Alighieri  and  Bella  dei  Donati  came  into  the 

world. 

To  begin  with  England  as  that  with  whose 
conditions  and  Literature  we  are  generally  most 
familiar:  England,  red  with  her  romantically 
named,  but  bloody  wars  of  the  Roses  following 
the  hundred  years'  war  with  France,  lay  even 
two  hundred  years  later  in  a  welter  of  brutality 
and  ignorance;  in  which  rival  claimants  of 
the  crown  slew  each  other  remorselessly  and 
waded  through  slaughter  to  a  throne.  Knowl- 
edge of  Letters  was  confined  almost  exclusively 
to  the  Priesthood,  who  gave  allegiance  to  a 
foreign  sovereign  and  a  foreign  tongue.  The 
English  language,  in  fact,  was  not  used  in 
Courts  of  Justice  prior  to  Dante's  Time. 

Of  Literature  there  was  none.  Geoffrey  of 
Monmouth  wrote  (1140)  in  Latin  his  history 
of  the  Kings  of  Britain,  composed  largely  of 
Celtic  legends,  including  those  of  King  Arthur's 
Court;  and  a  metrical  version,  which  was 
termed  Layamon's  Brut,  had  been  written  by  a 
French  Priest.  There  were  certain  Religious 
Poems,  composed  of  metrical  stories  from  the 
Bible,  and  a  few  others.     And  later  on  from 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TIME 


as 


Italy  and  Provence  the  Trouveres  brought  the 
tales  of  the  Paladins  of  Romance.  But  Eng- 
land was  steeped  in  a  feudal  rudeness,  little 
less  than  Semi-Barbarism. 

Next,  as  to  France:  France  was  more  ad- 
vanced, especially  in  the  South  which  had 
been  in  more  immediate  and  closer  contact 
with  Roman  Rule  and  Civilization.  Her  native 
Literature  was,  however,  for  the  most  part 
composed  of  Monkish  Legends,  or  Legends 
of  the  deeds  or  loves  of  the  Paladins  ancient 
or  modern,  that  is,  mediaeval,  as  we  should 
now  call  them.  Among  her  literary  products 
of  about  this  time — the  last  half  of  the  thir- 
teenth century — the  Romaunt  of  the  Rose  was 
possibly  the  most  notable.  But  as  Litera- 
ture in  France  was  like  that  in  England,  al- 
most wholly  in  the  hands  of  the  Church,  the 
learning  was  largely  classical,  and  the  litera- 
ture Religious.  The  main  exceptions  were 
the  Poems  of  the  Proven9aux  who  sang  of  Love 
and  Gallantry — and  Love  needs  no  Learning 
to  sing  her  power.  These  songs  the  Trouba- 
dours carried  from  Court  to  Court  and  Castle 
to  Castle. 

Germany  was,  after  the  time  of  the  Em- 
peror, Otto  First,  nearer  to  Italy  and  to  Rome 


m 


s6 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


III 


irW 


i\ 


I 


.1 


than  any  other  Power;    but  the  relation  was 
never  settled   definitely,   and   was   dependent 
on  the  personality  of  Emperor  and  Pope.     A 
German  Emperor  had  two  hundred  yeare  be- 
fore Dante's  time  stood  at  Canossa  in  the  snow 
awaiting  a  Pope's  pleasure  to  be  admitted  to 
kneel  and  do  penance  before  the  Pontiff  who 
had  excommunicated  him,  and  although  able 
Emperors    had    since    readjusted   the   balance 
and   could   command   where   they    had   once 
obeyed,  no  Emperor  came  to  Italy  without  an 
Army  at  his  back,  and  Italy  was  now  amid 
lesser  divisions,  too  manifold  to  discuss,  divided 
into  two  great  camps,  the  Guelfs  and  Ghibel- 
lines,  the  former,  who   represented  generally 
speaking  the  more  liberal  party,  the  more  ag- 
gressive and  Democratic  party  of  the  people, 
which  took  the  side  of  the  Pope,  and  the  Ghib- 
ellines  the  more  conservative  and  reactionary 
party— the  party  of  the  Nobles  which  stood 
for  the  Emperor.    Not  that  the  line  of  cleavage 
was   always  stable — far  from   it.     But   these 
were  the  general  lines  of  division  in  a  Society 
in  which  the  whole  world  was  at  war  with  some 
one  and  often  with  many. 

Germany  like  France  was  the  field  for  the 
exercise  of  the  Feudal  system;   but  its  expres- 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TIME 


ar 


sion  growing  out  of  the  necessity  to  have  som^ 
one  central  figurehead  if  not  authority  had 
brought  to  the  German  states  some  form  and 
even  some  substance  of  ordered  self-govern- 
ment. The  Emperor  was  elected  by  the  princes 
and  was  in  theory  supposed  to  represent  his 
electors  as  well  as  his  other  vassals  impartially, 
though  in  practice  it  was  often  otherwise. 

The  Feudal  system,  however,  was  never  so 
completely  established  in  Italy  as  in  Northern 
and  Northwestern  Europe.  In  Italy,  owing 
in  part  to  natural  economic  conditions  and, 
in  part,  to  the  character  of  the  people,  these, 
having  both  a  greater  imagination  and  a 
greater  turn  for  artistic  work  than  in  other 
lands,  banded  together  to  resist  the  tyranny 
of  Feudal  lords  and  gathered  in  cities  and  a 
change  took  the  form  of  communal  govern- 
ment, the  members  of  the  several  trades  form- 
ing themselves  into  guilds  which  exercised 
political  functions  and  which,  being  jealous  of 
their  privileges,  became  in  time  political  bodies 
which  contributed  powerfully  to  the  self-Gov- 
ernment  of  the  cities,  the  more  important  of 
which  became  republics,  independent  of  and 
hostile  to  all  others  and  owing  only  a  fealty 
now  to  the  head  of  the  Empire,  now  to  the 


1  -.1 


>  i— 

1 

f 


I 


i!i 


I' 

f:! 


A 


28 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


head  of  the  Church.  Thus,  grew  up  a  certain 
national  consciousness  not  readily  reconcilable 
with  their  attitude  toward  each  other  and  yet 
unmistakable  even  throughout  the  long  and 
bloody  factionalism  of  the  Ghibelline  and 
Guelf  warfare.  What  were  wanting  were  a 
common  head  and  a  common  tongue.  Dante 
strove  to  bring  the  first  and  gave  the  last. 

Yet,  as  in  all  times  men  and  women  love, 
marry,  and  are  given  in  marriage,  and  as  high 
courage  is  ever  mated  with  the  nobler  instinct 
of  the  heart.  Love  made  its  appeal  to  the 
heart  of  the  Feudal  Knight  and  warrior  and 
the  soft  blandishments  of  Woman  relieved  the 
stem  savagery  of  the  age  of  strife.  Thus,  the 
Age  of  Chivalry  came  into  being  and  presently 
the  Loves  and  Deeds  of  the  Paladins  were  the 
themes  of  the  Minstrel  of  the  North  and  were 
being  sung  in  castle  and  bower  by  the  Trouba- 
dours of  the  Sunnier  South.  Nowhere  in  the 
world  was  this  more  general  or  its  effect  greater 
than  among  the  Italian  race  of  Italy  and  Pro- 
vence. The  emotion  of  Religion  in  which  the 
beatitudes  of  Heavenly  bliss  and  the  terrors  of 
Infernal  perdition  were  preached  with  fervor, 
sent  men  on  crusades  to  recover  the  tomb  of 
Him  who  had  made  the  Cross  the  symbol  of 


1 '  ■  t 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TIME 


29 


Divine  Love,  or  into  monasteries  to  practise 
penance  for  sins  which  had  crucified  the  Lord 
of  Love:  the  Son  of  God.  In  Italy  was  the 
fountain  source  of  Religious  Power;  and  Re- 
ligious training— in  fact,  of  all  intellectual  train- 
ing. In  Italy,  the  artisan  as  he  hammered  his 
iron  sang  of  Tristan  and  Lancelot  and  their 
immortal  loves. 

In  this  strange  time  which  presents  a  medley 
of  diverse  and  changing  forces  came  in  the  year 
1265  into  the  world,  Dante  Alighieri,  destined 
to  be  the  greatest  poet  and  painter  and  teacher, 
not  only  of  his  time  and  country,  but  among 
the  greatest  of  all  time;  the  chief  prophet  and 
seer  and  spiritual  leader  of  Italy;  the  trumpet 
of  Liberty  of  the  Italian  people;  the  proclaimer 
of  a  moral  principle  in  Government;  the  pro- 
tagonist of  the  idea  of  complete  division  be- 
tween the  Temporal  and  Spiritual  Power. 

But  no  attempt  at  reform,  not  backed  by 
sufficient  force  availed  to  ameliorate  greatly 
conditions  which  were  founded  on  force  and 
which  required  force  and  violence  to  maintain 
them.  As  population  increased,  they  could 
only  be  supplied  by  better  and  increased  pro- 
duction and  distribution  of  the  necessaries  of 
life.     But  this  is  precisely  what  the  existing 


30 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


W' 


ti 


conditions  prevented  and  when  every  field  and 
vineyard  was  subject  to  foray  and  every  high- 
way was  a  mark  for  plunder,  there  was  little 
incentive  to  industry  or  traffic.    Neither  could 
be  maintained  save  by  force  and  except  under 
sufficient   guard    they   were   not    maintained. 
Thus,  the  population  became  divided  into  two 
classes,  the  workers  and  the  fighters;  and  the 
system  was  based  on  an  organization  which  re- 
quired a  headship  with  sufficient  strength  and 
boldness  to  conduct  it.    The  population  could 
find  only  the  meagrest  security  by  submission 
to  such  leaders  and  they  lived  within  call  of 
his  trumpet  or  bell  while  he  in  turn   lived 
strongly  guarded  within  his  castle  surrounded 
by  his  guards  or  bravos,  his  power  limited  only 
by  the  measure  of  violence  which  would  accom- 
plish his  will  without  exciting  a  revolt  strong 
enough  to  overthrow  him. 

The  only  apparent  exception  was  the  Priest- 
hood, but  often  this  was  apparent  rather  than 
real  and  priests  and  prelates  who  had  begun 
as  investigators  with  promises  of  amending  the 
intolerable  violence  and  injustice  that  outraged 
the  elementary  public  opinion  of  the  time, 
ended  by  out-Heroding  Herod  and  eclipsing 
in  injustice  and  oppression  and  sometimes  in 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TIME 


31 


vice  those   they  had    supplanted.    Thus,  so- 
ciety moved  in  a  vicious  circle.    The  pictur- 
esque castles — "the  cloud-capped  towers;  the 
gorgeous  palaces"  about  which  poets  sang  were 
prisons  reeking  with  vice  and  vermin  and  foul 
with    every    conceivable    disease    and    horror. 
The  castles  and  terraced-hills  which  in  the  sun- 
shine alike  excite  the  traveller's  wonder  and 
admiration  were  made  by  the  corvee  or  forced- 
labor  under  the  lash   and  the  gallows.     The 
gallows-tree   and   the  dungeon   were   as  con- 
ventional parts  of  the  Lord's  or  Seigneur's 
castle  as  the  chapel-cross  and  the  hall,  and  were 
as  much  used,  and  the  guest  of  to-day  might 
readily  enough  occupy  the  dungeon  to-morrow. 
Life  was  set  in  the  key  of  violence  and  its  fit 
expression  was  the  invention  of  gunpowder — 
a  new  and  more  effective  means  of  destruction. 
Science  later  turned  to  the  finer  art  of  poison; 
but  for  the  time  being  men  preferred  to  glut 
their  appetites  with  blood  and  ocular  horror. 
Betrayal  was  met  with  a  dagger-thrust  or  muti- 
lation, as  in  Paolo  Verruchio's  case,  and  enmity 
found  its  gratification  in  the  starvation  of  its 
objects,  as  in  the  case  of  Ugolino  and  his  chil- 
dren.    Before  leaving  his  mansion  every  gen- 
tleman   practised    of   a   morning   his   sword- 


i.f: 


■'■1 


I 


ifPi 


32 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


,  /i 


exercise  to  test  his  agility  and  keep  him  in 
readiness  to  defend  himself  and  no  man  of 
importance  stirred  outside  his  courtyard  with- 
out his  bodyguard  of  bravos.  It  required  but 
the  biting  of  the  thumb  to  bring  about  a  feud 
in  which  both  houses  might  be  completely  de- 
stroyed with  consequences  direful  to  the  entire 
community,  which  wished  a  plague  on  them 

both. 

It  was  presently  found  that  courage  and  skill 
in  arms  were  means  to  distinguish  men  even 
though  they  were   without   estates,   provided 
they  could  establish  their  position  among  the 
Chivalrous  class;  and  those  who  possessed  ex- 
ceptional qualities,  though  having  no  titles  to 
castles  or  lands,  might  secure  titles  of  honor 
such    as    Knighthood.     And    these   became    a 
privileged    class,    generally    retainers    of    the 
great  feudatories,  sometimes  becoming  feuda- 
tories themselves.     From  this  evolved  a  sort 
of  system  of  rules  which  demanded  more  cour- 
tesy, a  sense  of  personal  obligation— and  before 
long  an  order  of  Knighthood  which  has  been 
likened  to  the  order  of  the  Priesthood  in  the 
Church.     In  fact,  later  on,  certain  special  asso- 
ciations or  orders  of  Knighthood  grew  up  which 
were  vowed  to  special  aims  and  claimed  special 


DANTB  AND  HIS  TIME 


33 


privileges — such  as  the  Knights  of  Malta,  who 
maintain  their  organization  down  to  the  pres- 
ent day.  These  mainly  obtained  their  pro- 
motion from  the  representatives  of  militant 
power,  and  they  naturally  were  for  the  most 
part  aligned  on  the  side  of  the  Temporal  rather 
than  the  Spiritual  Powers.  And  in  the  great 
contest  which  divided  and  racked  Italy  from 
one  end  to  the  other,  between  the  heads  of  the 
Temporal  and  Spiritual  Powers  of  Christen- 
dom, the  militant  lay-orders  generally  espoused 
the  side  of  the  Emperor  to  which  was  given 
the  name  Ghibelline  and  those  in  opposition  to 
them  espoused  the  side,  rather  the  cause,  of  the 
Pope.  And  as  the  chief  weapon  of  the  latter 
was,  in  certain  phases  of  the  struggle,  the  power 
to  strike  men  through  their  ignorance  and 
superstition  and  to  terrify  the  superstitious 
with  the  threat  of  Damnation  those  who  were 
less  ignorant  and  less  bound  by  superstition 
naturally  found  themselves  aligned  against  the 
great  Organization  which  claimed  the  Com- 
minate  Power.  Thus,  the  intellectual  class 
outside  of  the  ecclesiastical  orders  fell  largely 
into  the  ranks  of  the  Ghibellines. 

And  now  having  taken  a  glance  at  the  gen- 
eral conditions  prevailing  in  and  about  Italy 


'  U 


iH 


I' 


mm 


ti 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INPLVBNCB 


[n 


34 

when  the  intellectual  and  spiritual  force  that 
was  compacted  in  Dante  Alighieri  came  mto 
the  world,  let  us  see  what  existed  in  Florence 
at  the  time  of  his  coming. 

There  is  little  or  no  mention  of  Florence  on 
the  Arno  in  the  eariy  records.    The  mention 
of  that  region  is  of  Fiesole  on  the  mountam 
above  the  flowery  valley  through  which  the 
Arno  courses:  Fiesole  with  its  Roman  remains: 
Castle   and   Amphitheatre   and  baths,  which 
Dante  couples  in  the  speech  of  the  older  dames 
of  Florence  with  their  tales  of  Troy  and  Rome. 
But  Fiesole  had  been  overthrown  and  de- 
stroyed in  the  war  which  the   rising  young 
Florentine  Republic  had  waged  against  it  and 
its  feudal  Tyrants  one  hundred   and  thirty- 
five  years  before  Dante's  birth  and  we  have  a 
picture  of  Florence's  golden  age  of  simphcity 
and   antique  virtue   drawn   by   the  shade  of 
Dante's  crusading  ancestor,  Cacciaguida,  as  a 
screen  on  which  to  project  Florence's  decadence 
in  virtue  as  she  revelled  in  opulence,  luxury, 

and  splendor.  ,.  ,    •      t. 

Fiesole  had  been  an  important  Imk  in  the 
chain  of  Feudal  strongholds,  largely  held  by 
stranieri;  successors  of  foreign  invaders  who, 
scattered  throughout  the  country,  harried  and 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TIME 


55 


oppressed  the  industrious  and  thrifty  Tuscans 
as  they  did  in  other  parts  of  the  Peninsula. 
But  the  people  of  Tuscany  had  other  qualities 
than  industry  and  thrift;  they  possessed  im- 
agination and  artistic  gifts  and  courage  and 
pride  like  the  Venetian  and  Genoese  and  the 
inhabitants  of  sundry  other  provinces  of  Italy 
who  had  resisted  tyrants  and  assumed  the 
powers  of  self-government.  They  banded  to- 
gether and  formed  guilds  which  however  jealous 
of  each  other  united  in  the  common  cause  and 
either  overthrew  or  made  terms  with  the  Feudal 
Signori;  destroyed  their  castles  and  brought 
them  to  recognize  their  rights,  as  in  the  case 
of  the  great  Countess  Matilda,  whom  Dante 
has  signalized. 

Certain  of  these  nobles,  their  country  castles 
destroyed,  had  come  to  Florence  with  what 
was  left  of  their  estates  where,  being  trained 
to  arms  and  to  command,  they  contributed  to 
her  expansion  and  power,  if  not  to  her  wealth. 
But  besides  those  endowments  they  brought 
with  them  their  pride  and  their  enmities  and 
here  they  found  a  fruitful  field  for  the  exercise 
of  both. 

As  for  a  time  after  her  victorious  war  with 
Fiesole,  Florence  had  peace,  at  least,  with  out- 


^i 


ii 


f 


3« 


JDANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


ni 


M'\ 


1  ■• 


side  rivals  until  near  the  time  of  Dante's  birth; 
her  thrifty  citizens  applied  themselves  to  their 
arts  with  such  good  results  that  they  rapidly 
began  to  amass  wealth  and  the  city  extended  so 
that  the  walls  were  enlarged  three  times.  And 
as  her  merchants  extended  their  trade,  a  wealthy 
class  of  Grandi  sprang  up  which  insensibly 
grew  into  power  and  either  rivalled  or  allied 
themselves  with  the  poorer  nobles.  And  thus, 
not  only  the  old  contest  between  Guelf  and 
Ghibelline  continued  with  unabated  fervor;  but 
new  factions  came  into  being;  the  rivalries  and 
enmities  were  multiplied  and  subdivided  and 
Florence  became  one  of  the  most  active  storm- 
centres  of  Italy. 

The  beginning  of  the  new  strife  was  when 
a  young  del  Monte  noble  broke  his  engage- 
ment with  a  damsel  of  the  Amidei  family  and 
espoused,  instead,  a  daughter  of  Qualdrada  dei 
Donati  and  on  Easter  Sunday,  1215,  the  out- 
raged Amidei  connection,  after  a  family  con- 
ference, avenged  the  insult  by  murdering  the 
faithless  bridegroom  on  the  bank  of  the  Arno. 
Thenceforth  all  Florence  took  sides  and  added 
to  all  other  causes  an  implacable  feud  which 
raged  for  a  hundred  years. 

So  much  of  the  political  condition.  And  now 
what  of  the  Religious  ?    The  corruption  of  the 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TIME 


37 


Church  had  assumed  a  form  and  proportions 
that  shocked  the  conscience  of  earnest  church- 
men, and  a  reform  was  started  of  which  the 
Monastery  of  Cluny  became  the  centre.  St. 
Dominic  and  St.  Francis  had  taken  up  the 
matter  of  Religion  and  Morality  at  a  time  when 
the  connection  had  been  severed  and  appeared 
in  danger  of  being  completely  lost.  They  had 
a  marked  effect  on  the  people  at  large.  The 
mendicant  orders  spread  rapidly  and  their  de- 
votion constituted  a  great  reform  movement 
which  affected  the  Priesthood. 

Great  scholars  like  St.  Thomas  Aquinas  and 
Albertus  Magnus  joined  the  former  order  and 
added    to    its    lustre,    and    devout    disciples 
preached  and  bore  the  gospel  of  piety  and  self- 
abnegation  to  remote  quarters.     But  vows  of 
poverty  and  chastity  were  not  likely  to  affect 
the  Hierarchy  engaged  in  practices  quite  the 
opposite  and  enlisted  in  a  desperate  struggle 
to  maintain  and  extend  the  power  which  their 
organization  had   been  able  to  secure  during 
the  preceding  age  under  able  and  ambitious 
Supreme  Pontiffs.     They  were  now  endeavor- 
ing to  withstand  Frederic  II,  the  Emperor,  and 
among  the  stakes  was   Florence  now  grown 
opulent  and  powerful. 
In  this  long  strife  which  kept  Florence  in 


i\\ 


38 


DANTE  AKD  HIS  INFLUENCE 


ill 

i 
II 


turmoil,  however  the  different  currents  ran 
there  were  always  the  two  main  currents  of 
conflict:  the  Imperial  Party  of  the  Ghibellines, 
and  the  Papal  Party  of  the  Guelfs.  For  a 
time  the  former  appeared  to  have  the  ascen- 
dancy. Frederic  II,  Dante's  "good  Frederic," 
rose  to  power  in  Italy  with  the  apparent  good- 
will even  of  the  Church;  then  Ghibellines  par- 
ticipated in  his  triumph  and  the  Guelfs  were 
driven  forth.  Laws  were  passed  creating  the 
office  of  Podesta  who  would  govern  in  a  manner 
to  please  the  Ghibelline  nobles.  But  the  people 
finally  interposed  and  a  new  office  was  created 
to  overrule  the  Podesta  and  he  was  backed  by 
a  militia  created  to  sustain  his  power.  But 
the  wind  of  popular  approval  changed;  Fortune 
and  friends  abandoned  him  and  Frederic  died 
in  1250,  reviled  and  excommunicated.  The 
Ghibellines  in  turn  were  chased  into  exile  and 
the  Guelfs  returned  to  power  to  glut  their  re- 
venge. 

Then  came  Manfred  (1258)  from  Sicily, 
Frederic's  natural  son  and,  in  the  battle  fought 
on  the  plain  of  Montaperti,  September  4,  1260, 
defeated,  with  the  aid  of  the  Ghibelline  exiles 
under  leadership  of  Farinata  degli  Uberti  and 
of  some  treachery  on  the  part  of  certain  Floren- 


! 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TIME 


39 


tines,  the  Guelfs  of  Florence  and  having  de- 
stroyed their  army  took  possession  of  their 
city,  whose  destruction  likewise  was  proposed, 
and  probably  would  have  been  carried  out  had 
not  the  Ghibelline  leader,  Farinata  degli  Uberti 
interposed  and  brought  himself  immortality  in 
a  verse  of  Dante's: 


(( 


G>lui  che  la  defesa  col  viso  aperto.'^ 


Manfred  might  have  brought  peace  to  Italy 
if  not  to  Florence  as  he  desired  to  reconcile 
the  warring  sections;  but  Pope  Urban  IV  was 
French,  a  cobbler's  son,  and  he  stood  for  the 
French  King's  pretensions  and  on  his  death  in 
1264  he  was  succeeded  by  Clement  IV,  a  Pro- 
vence lawyer,  who  also  opposed  Manfred,  whom 
he  excommunicated,  and  Charles  of  Anjou,  hav- 
ing come  with  an  army  composed  of  all  the 
elements  opposed  to  Manfred,  the  latter  was 
defeated  and  slain  in  the  battle  of  Benevento, 
February  26,  1266,  where  "/w  bugiardo  ciascun 
pugliesey*  and  later  his  body  was  torn  from  the 
sepulchre  and  thrown  into  the  river,  and  Conrad, 
his  boyish  heir  was  taken,  and  executed. 

Thus  closed  on  the  scaiFold  in  that  Piazza 
of  Naples  the  Swabian  line  that  Dante  so  sig- 
nalized  as  "the  three  Swabian  blasts,"  that 


40 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


!i  I 


had  begun  with  its  interest  in  the  new  life  and 
its  taste  for  Literature  to  lead  Italy  toward  a 
new  Intellectual  dawn.  Loose  claimants  to 
Imperial  thrones  were  as  inconvenient  and  as 
dangerous  then  as  now. 

Of  Poets  before  Dante  Italy  had  according 
to  catalogue  fewer  than  France  where  chiefly 
in  sunny  Provence  they  were  singing  in  mea- 
sures that  were  extending  both  North  and 
South,  and  were  awakening  an  emulation  which 
in  time  was  to  bring  forth  beyond  the  Alps 
a  choir  whose  melodious  song  should  draw  the 
attention  of  the  world. 

Yet  Italy  had  her  Poets  especially  to  the 
Southward  where  in  Frederic's  Court  had  be- 
gun to  sound  strains  that  recalled  how  once 
Sicily  had  resounded  with  song.  The  Pro- 
vencal singers  had  come  down  and  were  awaken- 
ing those  of  Italy.* 

Italy,  like  France  (to  follow  the  thoughtful 
study  referred  to),  went  through  the  cycle: 
Latin  chronicles,  monastic  in  form;  then  the 
sweep  of  monastic  legend  in  the  old  tongue, 
the  Latin;  then  those  of  a  more  secular  form; 

*  I  cannot  do  better  than  point  the  reader  to  the  work  of  the 
lateit  of  the  Dante  students,  Professor  Vittorio  Turri,  to  whose 
thoughtful  study  of  Dante  I  am  indebted  for  much  in  the  follow- 
ing resume. 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TIME 


At 


then  later  on,  "Histories  versified  in  the  classi- 
cal metre  of  the  epic  poem";  then  historical 
songs  popularized  in  briefer  and  lighter  form; 
legends,  religious  and  heroic,  an  echo  of  the 
deeds  of  France:  the  first  nucleus  of  the  Italian 
Romanesque  poetry.  Encyclopaedias,  moraliz- 
ings,  diverse  writings  followed  intended  to 
difl^use  in  the  language  of  the  Fathers — gram- 
matical, literary  and  scientific  precepts,  and  to 
draw  from  physical  and  natural  phenomena 
teachings,  symbols,  allegories.  And  side  by 
side  with  the  religious  lyric,  side  by  side  with 
the  great  Christian  and  Church  odes,  the  hymn 
of  joy  and,  yet  more  in  Italy  than  elsewhere,  of 
Pride;  side  by  side  with  the  visions  the  liturgic 
mysteries  in  which  are  found  the  first  slow 
germ  of  the  Drama  and  the  Stage. 

The  Troubadours  gathered  in  Courts — the 
greater  number  from  Provence  after  the  cru- 
sade of  the  Albigenses;  the  Trouveres,  scat- 
tered for  the  most  part  through  upper  Italy, 
in  the  castles  of  the  FriuH,  in  the  glorious 
Trivigian  marches,  spread  among  the  Italians 
the  Art  and  Poetry  of  France. 

The  former  bore  into  Italy  the  gay  science 
which  flourished  in  Southern  France:  the  subtle 
and    shrewd    doctrines   woven    around    Love; 


I 


} 


'i:H 


4» 


DANTB  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


^'i 


I    (' 


III 


those  exquisite  rhymes  of  sentiment,  form,  and 
melody;  that  language  of  harmonious  charm 
which  appeared  born  with  and  for  them.  They 
thus  promoted  a  numerous  school  of  Italian 
troubadours  who  to  the  native  dialects  pre- 
ferred the  Proven9al  tongue. 

The  Trouveres,  on  the  other  hand,  brought 
into  Italy  the  kind  of  Poetry  that  flourished 
in  upper  France:  romances;  songs  of  deeds, 
seized  on  and  re-elaborated  in  that  series  of 
poems  which  often  penetrated  by  the  imagery 
and  sound  of  the  dialect,  scattered  throughout 
the  Paduan  territory  the  fecund  seed  of  Italian 
Romanesque  Poetry. 

Throughout  a  great  part,  then,  of  the  period 
of  her  beginnings  Italy  had  a  rich  and  varied 
production  in  a  tongue  not  her  own,  and  as  the 
poetry  was  Latin  or  Provencal  or  French,  so 
also  the  Prose  contained  Latin  ideas  or  was 
French  in  the  doctrinal  or  narrative  writings. 
And,  meantime,  the  new  common  speech  of 
Tuscany  went  on  firmly  elaborating  itself  amid 
attempts  of  literary  idealization  on  the  part  of 
other  dialects;  exercising  itself  in  translating,  in 
remodelling  specimens  of  Rome  and  France; 
in  moral  and  rhetorical  works,  and  it  will  be 
found  in  short  space  suflSciently  developed  and 
established  to  advance  with  certain  step. 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TIME 


43 


Two  schools  of  Art  outline  themselves  and 
take  their  stand  from  all  this  diverse  produc- 
tion with  their  own  distinct  marks.  One, 
Dante  termed  the  Sicilian — not  because  all  its 
representatives  were  Suavi,  but  because  they 
drew  their  examples  and  impulse  from  the 
Swabian  Court  of  Sicily  not  with  any  other  in- 
tent than  to  reproduce  in  pallid  and  colorless 
form  the  lyric  of  Provence.  The  other  school, 
divided  in  spirit  and  in  attitude,  in  part  courtly, 
in  part  bourgeois,  in  part  scholastic,  and  in  part 
common-speech,  flourished  in  Central  Italy 
with  Guittone,  the  Aretino,  who  manifesting 
traces  of  the  Sicilian  rimatori,  has  the  senti- 
ment and  the  evident  desire  for  fresh  art  di- 
verse from  the  other  and  marked  by  the  new 
mystical  doctrines  touching  Love  and  by  new 
philosophic  and  political  reflections. 

The  Dante  student  already  cited  thinks  little 
of  the  former  school,  and  Dante  despised  for  his 
poverty  of  inspiration  and  of  style  Guittone, 
who  nevertheless  labored  to  lift  Poetry  from  the 
forms  of  troubadourism  to  a  more  serious  classic 
style  and  even  initiated  the  lyrical  political 
conscience  pervaded  by  a  vague  Sense  of  Italian 
National  Consciousness.  And  Guittone  seems 
to  have  been  the  master  of  Guido  Guinezelli, 


I 


|v 


;    if 


44 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


ii 


t  .i\ 


'm  • 


styled   by  Dante,  "the  Father  of  Sweet  and 
Pleasing  Rhymes." 

These  were  the  forerunners  of  him  who  was 
to  lift  Italian  Poetry  from  the  pedantic,  the 
commonplace,  and  the  imitative  and  establish 
it  at  one  sweep  on  the  pinnacle  of  the  noble 
and  the  inspired. 

Legends;  prayers;  chants;  litanies;  songs  of 
praise;  ballads;  antiphonals  (centresti)  these 
are  the  poetical  works  of  the  first  period:  an 
output  varied  in  character  and  manner;  re- 
ligious and  political,  amorous  and  moral;  where 
prevail  dialect  forms;  where  in  a  mixed  flock 
of  diverse  elements  it  is  easy  to  distinguish 
literary  idioms  and  attempts  at  and  ajspirations 
for  a  worthier  use;  where  the  speech  is  more 
frankly  popular  yet  where  on  the  other  hand  it 
strives  to  become  nobler  and  more  cultured. 

Thus,  if  in  upper  Italy  flourished  an  output 
richer  with  moral  and  didactic  motive,  in  a 
tongue  more  related  to  that  used  in  the  Veneto; 
but  penetrated  with  mixed  elements:  Latin, 
Provencal,  French,  Lombard;  in  Umbria  flour- 
ished the  sacred  lyric  and  were  difl^used  lauda- 
tions of  the  church  and  of  the  discipline  of 
Christ.  These  flourished  in  the  greater  part 
of  Italy,  while   in   Emilia;   in  Lombardy;    in 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TIME 


45 


Venice;  in  Tuscany  flowered  a  poetry  in  sub- 
stance and  in  form  more  clearly  and  broadly 
popular. 

Happily,  for  the  world,  however  unhappily 
for  him  in  his  time,  Dante's  lot  was  cast  in  one 
of  the  most  turbulent;  but  also  most  advanced 
cities  of  Christendom — a  city  full  of  violence; 
but  eager  and  advanced  and  on  the  threshold 
of  the  great  Renaissance,  which  was  to  make  it 
nearest  to  Athens  in  her  prime  of  all  the  Cities 
of  Modern  times. 

If  Guelfs  and  Ghibellines  fought,  till  the 
former  overwhelmed  the  latter  and  banished 
them  from  Florence  to  return  again  and  turn 
the  tables  on  the  former,  and  if  the  black  Guelfs 
and  the  People  fought  till  both  were  exhausted, 
Florence  did  not  pause  in  her  advance.  Three 
times  her  walls  had  been  extended  and  she  had 
grown  from  a  town  of  simple  life  to  an  em- 
porium of  commerce  whose  wealth  and  power 
were  increasing  by  leaps  and  bounds.  She  had 
seized  the  primacy  of  Tuscany  and  was  pre- 
paring to  extend  her  power.  With  the  genius 
that  was  the  birthright  of  her  people,  no  ad- 
vance appeared  beyond  her  reach.  Her  mer- 
chants became  leaders  and  enlarged  trade 
into  commerce.     They  grew  rich  and  they  grew 


M 


t 


t 


it! 


I 


A: 


M 


I 


I 


46 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


powerful  enough  to  rival  and  withstand  the 
great  nobles  who  had  ruled  supreme  in  the 
past,  and  to  set  up  a  Government  strong  enough 
to  make  them  subject  to  the  law  and,  when  they 
violated  Law,  to  raze  their  palaces  to  the  ground. 
Amid  the  strife  and  clangor  Italian  Genius  was 
rising  like  an  Eagle  soaring  above  the  storm 
to  face  unblenchingly  the  sun.  Learning  and 
Art  awakened;  the  great  Doctors  had  absorbed 
it  and  endeavored  to  show  that  it  might 
be  reconciled  with  the  Christian  doctrine. 
Religion  had  been  shown  by  men  of  saintly 
lives,  like  Dominic  and  Francis,  to  be  still 
capable  of  reforming  the  world.  The  Arts, 
released  from  formalism,  took  on  a  new  life 
and  Literature  held  its  own,  to  develop  later, 
with  Dante  at  the  head,  into  a  brilliancy  un- 
surpassed in  any  age. 

Dante  was  in  his  prime  when  at  the  end  of 
the  thirteenth  Century  the  flowering  of  the 
new  aspiration  began  to  show  its  rich  fruitage 
— when  in  1294  the  great  Church  of  Santa 
Croce,  the  Westminster  of  Tuscany,  was  be- 
gun, and  the  foundations  of  the  wonderful 
Duomo  were  laid  by  Arnolfo,  to  be  crowned 
later  by  the  masterpiece  of  Brunelleschi. 

In  1298  Arnolfo  began  the  imposing  Palazzo 
Vecchio.     And  soon  Giotto,  the  Italian  Shcp- 


m 


V 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TIME 


47 


herd-lad,  Cimabue's  disciple,  turned  into  the 
greatest  Artist  of  his  time,  with  a  genius  as 
many-faced  as  Michael  Angelo's,  was  rearing 
his  tower — "as  graceful,"  to  quote  Lowell,  "as 
an  Horatian  ode" — which  has  stood  since  then, 
unequalled  in  Majestic  beauty  by  any  similar 
work  even  in  the  land  where  Beauty  has  its 
home. 

In  1300  Pope  Boniface  VIII  held  a  Jubilee 
for  Christendom  to  mark  a  new  era. 

It  was  amid  such  conflicting  elements  and 
such  aspiring  dreams  that  Dante  grew  to  the 
realization  of  his  powers.  He  was  accustomed 
to  the  greatness  of  Art.  Tradition  tells  how 
he  sat  on  a  stone  and  watched  Giotto's  Cam- 
panile rising  in  splendor  to  overtower  the  tall- 
est dreams  of  Florentine  ambition  and  for  long 
the  stone  was  known  as  "Dante's  stone." 

But  those  who  planned  and  built  these  monu- 
ments of  Italian  genius,  little  knew  that  among 
them  sat  one  who  was  to  build  with  his  art  a 
monument  far  greater  and  more  enduring  than 
all  the  works  of  Giotto  and  Arnolfo  and  Bru- 
nelleschi and  all  their  followers. 

In  Florence,  in  the  atmosphere  in  which 
Dante  was  nurtured,  it  is,  at  least,  to  the 
modern  student,  not  easy  to  distinguish  be- 
tween   the    influence    on    Dante   of    the    Re- 


i)'i 


'\ 


m 


m 


(1  f 


48 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


ligious  reform  movement  that  was  taking  place 
about  him;  of  the  classical  students  who  were 
beginning  to  circulate  the  Aristotelian  philos- 
ophy with  an  ardor  as  though  it  were  a  new 
discovery;  and  of  the  modern  poets  who  were 
beginning  to  sing  of  love  and  chivalry  in  a  new 
key  and  with  a  new  melody  adapted  to  a  new 
conception  of  romance.  That  all  had  an  in- 
fluence on  his  mind  we  have  the  proof  in  his 
work  which  not  only  reflected  all  the  light 
that  came  from  every  source,  but  caught  and 
by  his  genius  transmuted  it  into  a  new  efful- 
gence in  whose  light  all  origin  save  his  own  is 
merged  and  lost.  Genius,  Art,  Tradition  he 
summons  to  his  aid  to  enable  him  to  present 
to  the  mind  of  man  the  full  import  of  his 
vision  of  light. 

In  the  Xth  and  succeeding  Cantos  of  the 
Paradiso  he  girdles  his  progress  with  a  shining 
band  of  Doctors  and  Sages  who  having  in- 
spired him  and  others  on  earth  now,  vivi  e 
viventi,  in  ineffable  light,  hymn  the  Glory  of 
God,  among  the  Blessed  with  melody  more 
divine  even  than  their  radiance.  And  what  a 
starry  band  they  are,  who  lovingly  circled  round 
the  beauteous  woman  who  fitted  him  for 
Heaven!    He  signalizes  St.  Thomas  Aquinas, 


DANTR  AND  HIS  TIME 


49 


the  Angelical  Doctor,  who  "Christianized  Aris- 
totle**:  brought  his  system  to  the  support  of 
Christianity;  Albertus  Magnus,  the  Doctor  Uni- 
versal, who  taught  and  gave  his  disputations 
in  Cologne  and  Paris  and  was  the  Angelical 
Doctor's  Brother  and  Master;  St.  Dominic, 
who  led  the  gracious  flock  in  green  pastures, 
and  among  them  St.  Francis,  who  rivalled  him, 
if  not  in  learning,  at  least,  in  piety  and  holy 
works;  Peter  the  Lombard;  Boethius,  whose 
influence  on  the  Poet  is  so  marked  as  to  be  uni- 
versally admitted;  Bonaventura,  the  Seraphic 
Doctor,  and  many  another  teacher  whose  in- 
fluence Dante  seems  thus  to  acknowledge  in 
his  mighty  work. 

Of  the  Poets,  as  has  been  already  stated,  he 
has  spoken  in  another  scene  and  he  places 
them  according  to  their  rank.  First,  of  course, 
for  him  Virgil,  his  Master  and  Guide;  Homer 
the  Monarch  of  Song;  Horace,  Ovid,  Lucan, 
and,  later  on,  Statius.  He  frankly  intimates 
his  debt  to  all. 


U 


•M) 


1 


hi    i 


II 


DANTE  AND  FLORENCE 

Of  the  four  World  Poets  who,  for  certain 
supreme  and  far-reaching  qualities  and  influ- 
ences on  the  progress  of  the  world,  may  be 
classed  together,  we  know  with  certainty  that 
in  all  that  goes  to  make  the  poet  supreme, 
the  sad  Florentine  whose  six  hundredth  anni- 
versary the  world  last  year  attempted  rever- 
ently to  celebrate,  is  not  less  than  the  great- 
est. 

There  was  no  field,  material  or  intellectual, 
which  he  did  not  explore,  no  region  that  the 
human  mind  had  conceived  of  whether  of 
Earth;  of  the  Heavens  above  the  Earth;  of  the 
waters  or  fire  beneath  the  Earth;  no  field  of 
human  thought  or  speculation  that  he  did  not 
penetrate  with  his  inspired  imagination  and 
on  which  he  did  not  shed  the  light  of  his  radiant 
intellect.  Every  emotion  of  the  human  heart; 
every  passion  of  the  human  soul;  every  exer- 
cise of  the  human  intellect;  every  flight  of  the 

so 


1 


DANTE  AND   FLORENCE 


51 


human  imagination  he  has  pictured  for  Hu- 
manity in  terms  and  colors  so  supreme,  so  im- 
perishable, as  not  only  to  be  unexcelled,  but 
as  to  render  it  well-nigh  inconceivable  that 
they  can  be  excelled  hereafter. 

Although  during  much  of  these  long  years, 
the  cultured  of  all  nations  have  been  striving 
to  measure  the  scope  and  to  do  justice  to 
the  hallowed  memory  of  him  whose  sacred 
ashes  Ravenna  proudly  guards  while  Florence 
mourns;  none  can  truly  know  what  Dante  was 
and  is  save  the  Italian. 

What  David  was  to  ancient  Israel;  what 
Homer  was  to  ancient  Greece — where  as  will 
be  recalled,  "Seven  Greek  Cities  fought  for 
Homer,  dead";  what  Shakespeare  has  been 
and  will  continue  to  be  to  the  English-speaking 
peoples  whose  thought  and  language  he  has 
crystallized  in  light— this  and  more,  Dante  has 
been  and  must  continue  to  be  to  the  Italian 
People.  For  he  was,  indeed,  what  that  Statue 
erected  at  Trent  proclaims  him  to  have  been: 
"The  Father." 

Certainly  the  Psalms  of  David  were  a  well- 
spring  for  the  Hebrew  people  and  were  sung 
and  resung  by  their  poets  and  taught  to  their 
children  for  generation  after  generation;  the 


1 


ii 


!l 


I 
\ 


i<j 


;  ' 


il  ' 


I 


m 


•(  t 


S9 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


songs  that  Homer  chanted  were  known  to 
Greeks  throughout  Greece  and  her  colonies 
and  eventually  to  the  world;  and  the  language 
of  Shakespeare  is  still  spoken  and  his  thought 
is  still  current,  at  least  among  the  native-born 
of  the  older  States  along  the  Atlantic  seaboard. 
But  the  language  of  Dante  is  even  more  the 
language  of  Italy.  And  that  it  is  so,  is  due  to 
Dante  himself.  He  created  the  Italian  lan- 
guage as  it  exists  to-day.  From  fragments  and 
dialects  he  formed  a  tongue  and  with  it  created 
so  wonderful  a  work  that  all  Italy  accepted  it 
and  after  six  hundred  years  still  uses  it  as  its 
own.  From  the  Italian  bank  of  the  Adige  to 
the  most  southern  point  of  Sicily,  the  phrases 
and  turns  of  expression  that  Dante  embalmed 
in  the  amber  of  his  verse  may  be  found  in  the 
mouth  of  the  Italian.  From  the  Minister  in 
his  cabinet  to  the  farmer  or  shepherd  or  vine- 
dresser it  may  be  found  as  a  part  of  the  ordi- 
nary currency  of  common  speech.  From  the 
Premier  to  the  Contadino  a  phrase  from  Dante 
carries  with  it  an  authority  such  as,  at  least, 
in  time  past,  was  among  the  pious  the  authority 
of  a  phrase  from  Holy  Word.  But  more  than 
this,  he  was  the  Moses  of  Italy  who  with  the 
great  vision  of  Liberty  for  Italy  laid  down  the 


1 


DANTE  AND  FLORENCE 


S3 


Laws  of  Justice  and  Truth  and  led  the  Itahans 
into  the  land  of  the  new  birth.* 

No  poet  of  whom  history  tells,  save  possibly 
Homer,  had  so  marked  and  so  universal  an  in- 
fluence on  the  destiny  of  his  country  and  of  his 
People. 

It  is  not,  however,  only  the  speech  of  Dante 
that  one  hears;  it  is  the  turn  of  phrase,  his  way 
of  thinking  also  that  has  stamped  itself  on 
Italy.  As  the  peasant  or  the  artisan  through- 
out Italy  talks  with  Dante's  wisdom  as  his  argu- 

»In  Italy,   owing    to   certain  conditions  in  the  past  which 
need  not  be  elaborated  here,  a  part  of  the  population  by  no 
means   inconsiderable   in   numbers  and  much  less  so  in  char- 
acter, would  be  unable  to  meet  even  the  indifferent  test  of  forty 
words  of  our  anti-immigration  laws.     But  among  this  part  are  a 
large  contadino  or  country  element  who  are  the  very  backbone 
of  Italian  Industry  and  Thrift  and  who  by  their  character;  their 
industry;  their  vigor;  their  experience;  their  ability  mental  and 
physical,  would  prove  a  benefit  to  any  country  on  which  they 
might  bestow  their  affection.   Yet  ignorance  and  misapprehension 
have  excluded  these  from  our  shores  while  others  in  shoals  have 
been  admitted,  simply  because  they  could  read  twoscore  words 
in  some  outlandish  dialect,  possibly  learned  for  the  express  pur- 
pose of  passing  them.    The  reason  why  the  literate-test  is  in- 
effective and—may  I  say.?— absurd,  is  that  in  Italy  as  elsewhere 
the  malvwenti  can  nearly  all  meet  the  test  while  the  body  of  the 
Analfabetti  who  are  excluded  would  prove  an  asset  of  which  any 
country  might  be  proud.     Character  is  better  than  the  knowl- 
edge of  forty  words  of  print,  or  forty  thousand  words,  and  the 
failure  to  understand  this  is  a  fundamental  error. 

The  very  men  who  are  excluded  by  the  test  may  be  able  to 
cite  reasons  for  any  view  they  hold  in  pure  Italian,  jewelled  with 
phrases  taken  from  the  jewel-casket  of  Dante  Alighieri. 


I 


{ 


1 


.■  I 


54 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


ment;  so  the  philosopher  and  the  statesman 
cites  him  as  the  authority  and  often  as  the 
final  authority  for  his  teaching.  He  has,  in 
fact,  a  unique  position  in  this  regard  and  one 
may  hear  him  quoted  with  the  same  respect 
that  in  our  Country  is  given  to  a  decision  of  the 
Supreme  Court.  From  him  as  from  His  Holi- 
ness,  the  Pope,  where  he  has  spoken,  there  is 
no  appeal;  he  is  infallible.  And  what  a  range 
he  has.  The  Earth,  Hell  and  Heaven  are  all 
included  in  his  boundless  scope.  Poeta  dei 
poeti,  call  him  the  Italians;  Creator  of  Creators. 

"Dante,"  says  one  of  his  most  noted  com- 
mentators, "is  a  great  part  of  Italy."  It  is 
true.  And  he  might  with  equal  truth  have 
added,  "Italy  is  a  great  part  of  the  world." 

Have  you  ever  reflected  what  the  world 
would  have  been  without  Italy.?  Think  what 
it  would  have  been  without  the  courage  and 
fortitude  and  persistence  that  defeated  Car- 
thage with  its  worship  of  Baal  and  its  human 
sacrifices;  without  the  Literature  that  has  en- 
riched Mankind;  without  the  Law  and  Order 
that  changed  the  Barbarian  countries  to  the 
Northward,  the  Eastward,  and  brought  them 
into  subjection  to  some  form  of  Civilization; 
without  the  pious  fervor  and  consecration  that 


DANTE  AND  FLORENCE 


55 


sent  Roman  Missionaries  to  Christianize  France 
and  England  and  later  the  great  Germanic 
regions;  without  the  spirit  of  informed  adven- 
ture that  brought  from  the  East  the  Mariner's 
compass  and  taught  its  use  to  Europe,  and  yet 
later  gave  Spain  the  great  Genoese  to  sail  into 
the  West  beyond  the  pillars  of  Hercules,  behind 
the  setting  sun  and  verify  the  dream  that  at 
some  point  the  West  and  East  would  meet. 
Think  what  we  should  have  been  without  the 
Religious  orders  that  in  the  crisis  of  religion 
came  from  Italy — from  that  Rome 

"Whose  sword  was  once  our  guardian  and  is  still  our 
guide." 

Think  what  the  world  would  have  been  with- 
out the  Art  and  the  Literature  of  the  Renais- 
sance. Think  what  it  would  have  been  had 
Italy  not  freed  herself  from  German-Austrian 
Rule  in  the  great  struggle  of  the  Risorgimento; 
and  had  she  not  been  able  to  hold  the  long 
eastern  flank  of  the  Allies:  the  500-mile  front 
from  the  Stelvio  to  the  Carso,  during  this  last 
vast  war  and  then  think  that  "Dante  is  a 
great  part  of  Italy,"  and  you  may  arrive  at 
something  of  his  august  measure. 

Many  Italian  biographers  of  Dante  place  his 
birth   at  such  a  distance  from  the  battle  of 


! 


56 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


Montaperti.  This  is  sufficient  for  Italians;  but 
I  have  felt  that  the  conditions  amid  which  this 
new  force  came  into  existence,  greater  than 
Swabian  Emperors  or  Roman  Pontiffs,  required 
somewhat  of  explanation  for  Western  hearers  to 
give  a  true  idea  of  that  force  and  its  accom- 
plishment. 

Dante  was  born  toward  the  end  of  May, 
1265,  in  the  section  of  Florence  near  the  Church 
of  St.  Martino  di  Vescovo.  His  family  was 
not  among  the  higher  nobility,  but  was  of  the 
local  gentry  or  lesser  Florentine  nobility  and 
was  connected  with  the  Elisei  family  who 
prided  themselves  on  being  of  ancient  Roman 
stock.  The  family  although  Guelf  was  among 
those  who  were  not  included  in  the  proscrip- 
tion then  recently  decreed  by  the  victorious 
party  of  the  Ghibellines.  An  uncle  had  fallen 
while  bravely  defending  the  Carroccio  in  the 
battle  of  Montaperti,  and  Dante's  great-great- 
grandfather, Cacciaguida,  whose  wife  was  an 
Alighiera,  from  "the  Green  region  of  the  pop- 
ulous Po"  (whence  Dante's  name,  Alighieri) 
had  fallen  in  the  Holy  Land  in  1 147 — a  piece  of 
family  history  in  which  Dante  took  great  pride, 
as  shows  the  picture  that  he  gives  of  the  old 
Crusader  when  he  meets  him  in  Paradise.     Also 


DANTE  AND  FLORENCE 


57 


he  does  not  hesitate  to  make  Cacciaguida  take 
pride  even  in  Paradise  of  his  most  gifted  and 
pious  offspring  who  was  enlisted  to  the  death 
in  a  crusade  which,  if  possible,  was  to  cast  into 
the  shadow  that  in  which  Cacciaguida  fell. 

And  the  picture  that  Cacciaguida  gives  of 
Florence  in  his  time  stands  as  a  portrait  of 
antique  virtue  unsurpassed  in  Plutarch  or 
Homer; 

"Fiorenza,  dentro  dalla  cerchia  antica, 
Ond*  ella  toglie  ancora  e  terza  e  nona. 
Si  stava  in  pace,  sdbria  e  pudica. 

Non  avea  catenella,  non  corona, 

Non  donne  contigiate,  non  cintura 

Che  fosse  a  veder  pid  che  la  persona,"  etc.* 

The  whole  scene  is  well  worth  our  time. 

"Florence  within  her  ancient  ring  of  walls 
from  which  she  still  receives  her  tierce  and 
nones  stood,  herself  contained  in  peace,  sober 
and  modest  still.  She  had  no  bracelet  then, 
no  coronet,  no  decked-out  dames,  no  belts 
which  might  have  been  seen  more  than  the 
person  itself.  Nor  could  a  daughter's  birth 
bring  to  her  father  fear,  because  the  age  and 
dowry   would   not   yet   outrun   due   measure. 

*  Paradise,  Canto  XV,  97,  etc. 


It 


I 


i 


^^}{^ 


S8 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


She  had  no  houses  empty  of  the  family:  nor 
yet  had  Sardanapalus  come  to  show  that  which 
could  have  been  done  within.  Not  yet  had 
Montemalo  been  surpassed  by  your  Uccellatoio; 
as  it  is  surpassed  in  its  rise,  so  it  will  be  in  its 
fall.  I  saw  Bellincion  Berti  go  about  girded 
with  leather  and  with  bone,  I  saw  his  lady 
come  from  her  mirror  her  face  unpainted.  I 
saw  that  one  of  Nerli  and  that  del  Vecchio  re- 
main contented  with  unlined  pelt  and  their 
ladies  at  the  spindle  and  thread.  0  happy 
women !  Each  one  was  certain  of  her  sepulchre 
and  none  had  yet  through  France  a  widowed 
bed.  One  kept  her  vigil  studying  of  her  cradle; 
consoling  with  baby-talk,  which  fathers  and 
mothers  at  first  so  delight  in.  Another  draw- 
ing the  tress  from  the  distaff,  told  stories  to  her 
family  of  Troy,  of  Fiesole  and  Rome.  In  that 
day  a  Cianghella  or  a  Lapo  Salterello  would 
have  been  held  as  much  a  marvel  as  would  have 
now  Cincinnatus  or  Cornelia.  To  such  a  beau- 
tiful life  of  the  citizen,  to  such  safe  citizenship, 
to  such  a  pleasant  Inn  (a  cost  dolce  ostello) 
Mary,  called  upon  aloud,  gave  me;  and  in 
your  ancient  baptistery  I  became  at  once  a 
Christian  and  Cacciaguida." 
His  mother,  Bella,  died  when  Dante  was  a 


DANTE  AND   FLORENCE 


59 


child,  and  his  father,  who  had  married  again, 
did  not  long  survive  her,  and  Dante  appears 
to  have  spent  a  serious  and  pensive  youth, 
studious  and  im^jressionable.  He  studied  per- 
sistently and  earnestly — arithmetic,  geography, 
history,  rhetoric,  philosophy,  theology — the  last 
two  were  much  interwoven  in  those  days — and 
with  them  the  art  of  Rhyme.  Thus,  as  he 
boasts,  he  quickly  made  himself  very  learned. 

At  the  age  of  nine  years  a  spark  touched  his 
genius.  At  some  festa  his  eyes  lighted  on  a 
little  girl,  of  about  his  own  age,  clad,  as  he  tells 
us,  in  a  soft  red  robe.  He  fell  in  love  with 
Beatrice  Portinari,  a  child  of  his  own  age,  with 
a  passion  so  great  that  it  not  only  endured  and 
effected  an  influence  on  his  Hfe,  but  endures 
through  the  ages  and  has  effected  an  influence 
on  the  life  of  the  world. 

From  this  time,  as  he  confesses — indeed, 
boasts.  Love  ruled  his  heart,  his  mind,  his  spirit, 
his  life.  Love  became  his  Lord.  ''Jpparuit 
jam  heatitudo  vestrUy'  said  Love  to  him  and 
he  knelt  in  adoration.  But  it  was  such  a  love 
as  the  world  has  rarely  known — it  was  the  pure 
devotion  of  a  heart  made  for  love  sublime 
and  immortal.  It  had  not  in  it  apparently 
aught  of  the  earthy — it  was  wholly  romantic 


•^■' 


I 


V   « 


(i  ii 


60 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


and  wholly  spiritual.  Her  glance  intoxicated 
him;  her  greeting  in  the  street  lifted  him  to 
Paradise;  the  withholding  of  her  greeting 
maddened  him.  Thinking  upon  her  became 
his  highest  joy.  He  asked  no  other.  He  forgave 
his  enemies.  He  felt  that  he  wished  no  man  ill, 
but  all  men  good.  This,  indeed,  was  love.  To 
her  he  wrote  poems — always  to  her,  even  though 
in  his  shy  mysticism,  he  dedicated  them  osten- 
sibly to  others.  Dante  became  the  Cavaliere 
Serviente  spirituale  of  Beatrice  Portinari.  He 
afterward— between  1292  and  1294 — married 
Gemma  dei  Donati,  probably  "the  gentle  lady," 
who  rescued  and  solaced  him;  she  bore  him 
children:  four  sons  and  two  daughters.  But 
wedded  by  immortal  bonds  to  her  in  whose 
honor  he  wrote  his  Vita  Nuova  and  his  Divine 
Comedy,  he  was  lifted  to  Paradise  and  there, 
illumined  by  celestial  light,  he  sang  in  divine 
strains,  the  glory  and  majesty  and  love  of 
God. 

He  was  the  illustration  of  what  Love — such 
Love — may  accomplish  when  it  informs  the 
human  soul;  and  though  the  gentle  Gemma, 
whom  he  married,  may  later  have  repined  that 
not  she,  but  Beatrice  inspired  his  genius  and 
led  him  within  the  gates  of  Paradise,  there  is 


DANTE  AND  FLORENCE 


6z 


no  sound  reason  to  believe  that  she  had  not  his 
domestic  love.  At  least,  she  did  him  and  the 
world  a  great  service. 

But  to  return  to  the  first  step  when  the  great 
light  shined  about  him  and  he  fell  on  his  face 
and  worshipped. 

He  was  shy,  proud,  introspective,  mystical, 
assuredly  not  lacking  in  self-esteem,  yet  lifted 
by  his  genius  high  above  mere  egotism,  and  in 
matters  literary,  even  from  the  first,  self- 
confident  in  the  extreme,  as  witness— for  the 
former,  his  account  of  his  conduct  before  the 
companions  of  Beatrice;  and  for  the  latter,  his 
addressing  his  first  sonnet  to  all  the  poets  who 
had  sung  of  and  were  faithful  to  Love:  A 
ciascun  alma  presa  e  gentil  cuore. 

He  was  at  this  time  eighteen  years  of  age, 
and  his  venture  launched  him  into  the  great 
sea  where  he  was  to  eclipse  the  deeds  of  all 
who  sailed  it  then  or  have  sailed  it  since. 

To  this,  replied  among  others,  Guido  Caval- 
canti,  a  poet  some  ten  years  older  than  him- 
self, whom  Dante  calls  his  first  friend  and  has 
immortalized. 

He  was  happy  in  finding  in  Brunetto  Latini: 
philosopher  and  man  of  Letters,  a  master 
whose  learning  and  gifts,  especially  those  of 


I' 

I 
J- 


62 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


I 


i 


sympathy  with  so  richly  and  strangely  en- 
dowed a  pupil  as  young  Alighieri,  inspired  his 
ambition  and  gave  him  the  knowledge  and 
understanding  which  led  him,  not  only  to  the 
heights  of  Learning,  but  to  the  depths  of  the 
nature  of  things. 

Also,  doubtless,  Brunetto  Latini  taught  him 
something  of  the  manner  in  which  an  exile 
should  support  his  unhappy  lot;  for  Brunetto, 
after  Montaperti,  was  driven  out  of  Florence  by 
the  victorious  Ghibellines  and  Hke  so  many 
other  illustrious  exiles,  sought  and  found  in 
France  the  means  of  livelihood  denied  to  him 
at  home. 

At  the  proper  age  Dante  attended  the  fa- 
mous University  of  Bologna  and  this  became 
the  most  illustrious  of  Universities.  We  have 
a  trace  of  his  stay  there  in  a  famous  simile  in 
which  he  refers  to  Garisenda,  one  of  the  lean- 
ing towers  of  Bologna,  and  to  the  optical  de- 
lusion caused  by  the  clouds  passing  over  it, 
and  nearly  six  hundred  years  later  we  have  evi- 
dence of  Dante's  hold  on  the  ItaUan  mind,  when 
Giosue  Carducci,  latest  of  the  great  ItaHan 
Poets,  making  the  towers  tell,  in  their  antipho- 
nal  song,  of  the  great  sights  they  have  witnessed 
in  theiy  time,  after  other  great  historic  sights 


DANTE  AND  FLORENCE 


63 


has  Assinella  sing  how  she  had  seen  young 
Dante: 


«( 


Dante  vid'io  levar  la  giovine  fronte  a  guardard, 
E,  come  su  noi  passano  le  nuvole, 
Vidi  su  lui  passar  fantasmi  e  fantasmi  ed  intorno 
Prcmergli  tutti  i  secoli  d'ltalia/' 

Dante  saw  I  uplift  his  young  brow  to  regard  us 
And  as  o*er  us  are  passing  the  clouds 
Saw  I  over  him  pass  phantasm  and  phantasm  and 
About  him  throng  all  the  ages  of  Italy. 


Returned  to  Florence,  young  Dante,  who,  we 
are  told,  "participated  in  all  martial  exercises 
of  his  fellows,"  soon  had  an  opportunity  to 
prove  his  metal  in  other  lists  than  those  in 
which  Simone  dei  Bardi  had  carried  off  the 
prize. 

Florence  was  soon  at  war  with  her  rival, 
Arezzo,  and  young  Dante  bore  himself  with 
honor  on  the  victorious  field  of  Campaldino, 
where  in  1289  (June  11)  he  fought,  mounted 
and  in  the  front  rank— an  experience  in  which 
he  later  took  just  pride. 

It  was  a  year  after  this,  in  June,  1290,  that 
Beatrice  died  and  God  transferred  her  resi- 
dence from  terrestrial  to  celestial  light.  Dante 
wrote  upon  her  death  a  Latin  epistle— his  first. 


64 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


9f  \ 

i        t 


and  an  Italian  Canzone.     The  former  begins 
with  Jeremiah's  Lament: 


it 


How  doth  the  City  sit  solitary  she  that  was  full  of 
people." 


The  canzone  contains  the  lines: 


M 


So  Beatrice  is  passed  into  high  Heaven— 
Into  the  Realm  where  the  Angels  have  peace. 


Ere  long  his  excess  of  grief  either  passed,  or 
tossed  him  on  a  tide  where,  skirting  the  danger- 
ous coast  of  hapless  love,  in  company  with 
Forese  Donati,  a  wiid  companion,  Corso  Do- 
nati's  brother  and,  some  say,  Gemma's  brother, 
he  seems  to  have  heard  the  siren  voices  of 
Pargoletta;  Pietra;  Violetta;  Lizetta,  and  for 
a  time  to  have  plunged  into  dissipations  which 
soon  drew  from  his  friend,  Guido  Cavalcanti, 
a  sonnet  of  serious  reproof,  and  which  Dante 
himself  later  laments  as  a  grievous  memory. 

Recalled  from  his  lapse  of  loyalty  to  his 
loftier  aims  he  resumed  his  deeper  studies,  his 
spiritual  love  resumed  its  sway,  and  his  poetry 
while  still  inspired  by  the  same  power  and 
pouring  from  the  same  source  begins  to  run  in 
a  deeper   channel.     He   seems   now  to   have 


DANTE  AND  FLORENCE 


65 


turned  seriously  to  Theology  and  to  have 
given  to  its  study  all  his  intellectual  force  and 
an  intenser  devotion  to  the  divine  source  of 
the  Light  of  Justice  and  of  Peace.  Hence- 
forth he  becomes  the  champion  of  popular 
Right,  as  he  interpreted  it  within  the  thrice- 
expanded  walls  of  his  beloved,  if  turbulent 
town.  Beatrice  becomes  a  beaudful  symbol 
of  Divine  Grace  that  has  sent  Virgil,  the  sym- 
bol of  learning  and  wisdom,  to  bring  him  safe 
through  Hell  and  Purgatory  and  awaits  him 
at  the  gate  of  Paradise  to  lead  him  into  its 
blessedness.     But  this  is  an  anticipation. 

His  first  notable  work.  La  Vita  Nuova, 
written  between  1292  and  1294,  assembles  his 
poems  indited  or  dedicated  to  his  Love.  It  is 
the  work  of  a  young  man :  a  great  poet,  inspired 
by  a  lofty  motive;  a  great  passion,  even  a 
divine  passion,  to  do  honor  to  a  great  and  noble 
love—a  Love  mighty  enough  to  lift  him,  like 
St.  Paul,  whether  in  the  spirit  or  in  the  body, 
who  could  tell  ?— above  all  that  he  had  imagined, 
and  open  to  him  a  vision  loftier,  vaster,  more 
entrancing  than  aught  he  had  yet  conceived, 
to  the  accomplishment  of  which  he  would 
henceforth  consecrate  all  his  powers.  It  was 
written  in  Italian  instead  of  in  the  classical 


( 


.•'; 


li 


66 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


Latin  that  he  had  once  employed,  and  for  this 
Guido  Cavalcanti  was  responsible.  He  coun- 
selled him  and  should  have  our  gratitude,  for 
the  Poet  followed  the  same  course  later  when 
he  settled  down  to  his  great  epic. 

As  a  collection  of  Love-poems  it  leads  the 
world  in  that  all  great  love-poems  since  that 
time  have  followed  his  shining  path  and  contain 
a  reflection  of  his  light.  Petrarch  was  his  fol- 
lower; the  Elizabethans  chose  his  measure. 
Every  great  poet  since  has  given  light  reflected 
from  his  orb. 

His  last  poem  of  that  period — of  that  stage 
was  a  vision  of  a  lady  revealed  to  his  Love  in 
dazzling  splendor,  receiving  honor  in  the  widest 
sphere  of  Heaven. 

"After  this  sonnet,"  he  says  in  closing  his 
first  work,  "there  appeared  to  me  a  marvellous 
vision,  in  which  I  saw  things  that  caused  me 
to  resolve  not  to  speak  more  of  this  blessed  one 
until  such  time  as  I  should  be  able  to  indite 
more  worthily  of  her  and  to  attain  to  this  I 
study  to  the  utmost  of  my  power,  as  she  truly 
knows.  So  that  should  it  be  the  pleasure  of 
Him  by  whom  all  things  live  that  my  life  con- 
tinue  for  some  years,  I  hope  to  say  of  her  that 
which  never  hath  been  said  of  any  womanJ 


f» 


DANTE  AND  FLORENCE 


67 


And  we  are  happy  to  know  that  his  life  con- 
tinued not  for  some  years  alone;  but  into  im- 
mortality. The.  consummation  of  this  vision 
—the  carrying  out  to  its  full  fruition  of  this 
high  resolve  is  the  Divina  Commedia;  the  pic- 
ture of  the  world  thrown  on  the  screen  of  the 
Future;  the  progress  of  the  Human  soul  guided 
first  by  lofty  philosophy  through  Hell  and 
Purgatory  and  then  by  exalted  love  through 
the  paradise  of  God;  the  destiny  of  man  under 
the  Providence  of  God. 

One  singular,  quaint  thing  about  the  Vita 
Nuova  is  the  Poet's  exegetical  comment  on 
the  meaning  and  the  form  of  each  poem.  Was 
it  that  he  mistrusted  his  reader's  complete 
comprehension  of  his  meaning  and  desired  to 
enlighten  him,  or  that,  assured  of  complete 
comprehension,  he  was  happy  to  lay  bare  the 
very  innermost  recesses  of  his  heart  f  It  would 
appear  the  latter.  For  Dante  wrote  then  for 
gentle  hearts  in  which  Love  reigned  as  Lord 
and  for  those  that  had  intelligence  of  Love. 
Love  was  to  him  then  the  Ruler  of  all  hearts 
worth  considering  and  to  these  he  addressed 
himself  in  the  assurance  of  full  comprehension 
and  sympathy.  He  would  have  them  know 
not  only  that  he  loved  supremely;  but  how  he 


68 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


I 


r  j 


came  to  write  of  Love.  It  was  manifestly  the 
manner  and  form  of  expression  in  which  he 
took  pride — the  "  Bello  Stile."  It  was  the  word 
that  he  wrote  of  his  love  that  was  his  chief  joy. 
And  let  it  here  be  noted  that  he  ever  links 
Love  with  the  Spiritual.  Even  where  he  pic- 
tures beauty  of  form  it  is  the  picture  of  angels 
that  he  draws — the  spiritual  shines  through 
them. 

After  his  Vita  Nuova  Dante  took  part  in  the 
public  affairs  of  his  beloved  city,  and  espoused, 
as  every  poet,  save  a  Court  Poet  must,  the 
cause  of  the  People  and  of  their  Rights,  join- 
ing the  Physicians'  and  Apothecaries'  Guild,  a 
membership  that  was  necessary  for  any  man 
who  aspired  to  influence  in  the  rising  Republic. 

In  the  Vita  Nuova,  in  one  of  the  most  beau- 
tiful passages  of  that  quaint  and  interesting 
study  of  himself  as  affected  by  Love,  he  dis- 
closes quite  incidentally  the  fact  that  he  had 
some  knowledge  of  Art. 

On  the  first  anniversary  of  the  day  on  which 
the  blessed  Lady  Beatrice  was  translated  to 
the  Life  Eternal,  he  was  engaged,  he  tells  us, 
''in  drawing  an  angel  upon  certain  tablets. 
And  while  I  was  drawing  it,  I  turned  my  eyes 
and  saw  beside  me,  men  to  whom  it  was  meet 


DANTE  AND  FLORENCE 


69 


to  do  honor.  They  were  looking  on  what  I 
was  doing  and,  as  I  was  informed  later,  they  had 
been  there  some  time  already,  before  I  was 
aware  of  it.  When  I  observed  them  I  rose  and 
saluted  them  saying,  'Another  was  with  me 
just  now  and  therefore  I  was  thoughtful.'" 

Also  he  had  Knowledge  of  Music  and  loved 
it,  according  to  Boccaccio,  who  knew  those  who 
had  known  him  and  treasured  his  memory. 
Indeed,  Music  was  among  the  most  enlightened 
peoples  taught  as  an  essential  element  of  Edu- 
cation and  as  related  to  mathematics  until  it 
was  banished  therefrom  by  the  prosaic  and 
utilitarian  Saxon,  as  a  feminine  accomplish- 
ment, unworthy  of  the  "nobler  sex." 

Dante  himself  gives  us  to  understand  that 
he  had  studied  Music  as,  for  example,  where  in 
the  Convito,  or  Banquet,  he  tells  of  his  study 
of  the  Third  Heaven  and  its  movers,  and  com- 
ing to  the  discussion  of  the  seventh  Heaven, 
explains  that  by  Heaven,  he  means  Knowledge 
and  he  gives  the  list  of  the  Seven  Sciences  of 
the  Trivium  and  the  Quadrivium,  as  Grammar, 
Dialectus,  Rhetoric;  Arithmetic,  Music,  Geom- 
etry, and  Astrology.  All  these  he  had  pursued 
with  a  lover's  devotion. 

A  story  is  told  of  him  that  on  a  day  as  he  was 


I'tifi 


if 


70 


VANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


passing  along  a  street  in  the  district  of  San 
Piero,  he  heard  a  smith  as  he  worked  in  his 
shop  singing  one  of  his  songs  so  badly  that  he 
fell  into  a  rage  and  rushing  in  seized  the  tongs, 
hammer,  and  ironwork  and  flung  them  out  in 
the  roadway. 

"What  are  you  doing?"  shouted  the  smith. 
"You  are  ruining  my  work." 

"Well,  not  so  much  as  you  are  ruining  mine," 
retorted  the  poet.  And,  adds  the  chronicle, 
the  smith  had  to  content  himself  with  singing 
of  Lancelot  and  Tristan. 

It  would  appear  not  an  unjust  inference  from 
this  story,  though,  possibly  not  a  necessary 
one,  that  Dante  had  composed  the  music  of 
the  song  no  less  than  the  words  which  the  mu- 
sical  smith  mutilated. 

Another  story  illustrates  both  the  time  and 
the  poet's  standing.  It  relates  how  Dante 
passing  along  on  a  day  clad  in  corselet  and 
with  "a  gun-piece,"  as  was  the  wont,  came  up 
with  an  ass-driver,  who  like  the  blacksmith  of 
San  Piero  was  singing  one  of  Dante's  songs 
and  at  the  end  of  every  stanza  he  shouted 
**arri,"  which  was  a  call  to  speed-up  his  ass. 
Dante  having  overtaken  him,  annoyed  at  this 
save  the  fellow  a  blow  with  his  gun-piece  and 


DANTE  AND  FLORENCE 


7« 


when  he  turned  around,  said,  "I  did  not  write 
whereupon  the  ass-driver  poured  out 


arn, 


)>» 


a  torrent  of  insulting  words  and  made  an  in- 
sulting gesture;  but  Dante  only  replied:  "I 
would  not  give  one  of  my  words  for  a  thousand 
of  thine."  This  return  of  the  insult  was  taken 
to  show  great  moderation. 

Inspired  possibly  by  his  new  and  deeper 
studies  and  possibly  somewhat  owing  to  his 
new  position  as  the  head  of  a  family,  he  now 
becomes  engaged  in  the  public  life  of  Florence 
and  he  plunges  into  the  turbid  stream  with  the 
same  burning  ardor  that  characterized  his  life 
in  its  every  phase. 

Since  Campaldino,  Florence  had  immeasur- 
ably increased  in  wealth,  especially  among  the 
merchant  class  who  had  not  the  traditions  of 
the  old  nobles;  but  soon  imitated  their  arro- 
gance and  other  failings.  The  city  was  now  in 
a  league  with  Genoa  and  Lucca  renewable 
every  year.  This  added  greatly  to  her  power 
and  wealth  and  this  wealth  had  resulted,  as 
sometimes  happens  in  other  lands  than  Tus- 
cany, not  only  in  certain  good  consequences, 
but  also  certain  evil  consequences  and,  if  we 
are  to  believe  Dante,  the  loss  of  the  old  stand- 
ards and  the  setting  up,  instead,  of  new  or  of  no 


7« 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


DANTE  AND  FLORENCE 


73 


^r' 


.') 


standards  at  all;  but  only  of  show  and  display 
with  personal  indulgence  of  every  kind.  Women 
grew  shamelessly  immodest  and  went  in  public 
half-clad  to  a  degree  that  led  to  public  rebukes 
from  the  pulpit:  men  abandoned  the  old  simple 
ways,  and  lived  in  extravagance  far  beyond 
their  means  and  lost  the  virtues  that  had  once 
brought  them  the  respect  of  all. 

The  old  became  sharp  and  unscrupulous  and 
the  young  became  dissipated,  flashy,  and  unreli- 
able.   The  lower  classes  vied  with  those  above 
them  and,  banded  together  against  them,  used 
iniquitously  the  upper  hand  which  they  had  got 
— used  it  remorselessly  as  the  others  in  their 
time  had  done;  imprisoned  or  killed  or  drove 
them  into  exile;  sacked  their  houses  and  con- 
fiscated their  property;  then  fell  to  quarrelling 
among  themselves  and  became  the  tools  of  un- 
scrupulous leaders  and  demagogues  of  all  classes 
until  all  lines   of  division  were  confused  and 
they  in  turn  were  overthrown.     Then,   thus 
divided,  they   fell  a  prey  to  outside  intrigue 
and,  seeking  outside  aid,  they  were  enabled  to 
wreak    their     vengeance     on     their    personal 
enemies;  but  became  the  victims  of  their  hatred 
and  found  that  they  were  but  the  prey  of  those 
whom  they  had  called  in  to  their  rescue.   Thus, 


the  people  became  debased;  thus,  Florence,  even 
amid  her  growing  splendor,  fell  the  victim  of 
her  immoderation  and  folly. 

It  was  in  this  state  of  affairs  that  Dante  first 
appears  in  public  life.  He  belonged  to  the 
Guelfs;  but  all  the  significance  of  party  names 
was  now  nearly  lost — even  that  of  the  Blacks 
and  Whites  was  confused. 

There  was  a  law,  as  we  have  seen,  which  had 
been  favored  by  the  Pope  of  that  time,  which 
prescribed  that  only  those  who  belonged  to 
one  of  the  Guilds  should  take  part  in  public 
affairs.  Dante  enrolled  himself  in  the  guild 
**dei  Medici  e  degH  Speziali  "  and  it  is  inter- 
esting to  note  that  this  guild  was  concerned 
with  the  dealing  with  books.  He  was  en- 
rolled in  this  guild  simply  as  "Poeta."  It 
must  have  been  this  guild  that  brought  into 
power  the  later  rulers  of  Florence  who  in  her 
most  magnificent  period  took  therefrom  their 
name,  de'  Medici.  In  this  service  the  young 
scholar  and  poet  soon  rose  to  sufficient  note  to 
be  chosen  for  a  brief  period  a  Prior,  and  to  be 
sent  as  a  member  of  a  mission  to  San  Gimi- 
gnano,  of  the  towers,  a  mission  in  which  he  was 
apparently  successful,  and  he  was  later  sent 
on  other  missions — to  Rome  and,  so  'tis  said,  to 


74 


DANTB  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


Hungary.  Tradition  reckons  his  missions  as 
fourteen  in  all.  But  in  all  he  was  not  successful, 
as  for  example,  in  that  to  Rome  and  in  his 
last  to  Venice,  to  make  Peace  between  that 
powerful  Republic  and  his  host,  Guido  da 
Polenta,  in  which  his  unsuccess  is  said  to  have 
caused  his  death.  If  this  be  so,  it  was  a  noble 
death. 

He  was  in  December,  1295,  among  the  Savi, 
called  in  to  arrange  the  rules  for  the  next  elec- 
tion of  Priori  and  was  in  the  Council  of  the 
One  Hundred,  where  he  spoke  on  the  subject 
of  an  alliance  with  Pistoia. 

In  May,  1300,  he  was  intrusted  by  the  Si- 
gnoria  with  a  mission  to  San  Gimignano  and, 
perhaps,  to  other  Communes  as  well,  to  request 
their  participation  in  the  approaching  Congress 
called  to  renew  the  Guelf  League. 

Record  of  the  Embassy  to  San  Gimignano 
has  been  preserved.  It  was  in  the  Spring  of 
1300,  and  the  object  of  the  Embassy  was  to  an- 
nounce that  the  Assembly  was  to  be  held  for 
the  purpose  of  electing  a  new  head  of  the 
Guelf  League  of  Tuscany  and  to  urge  the  citi- 
zens of  San  Gimignano  to  send  representatives. 
The  record  tells  how,  "On  May  the  eighth  the 
General  Council  of  the  Commonwealth  and  peo- 


DANTE  AND  FLORENCE 


75 


pie  of  San  Gimignano  having  been  invoked 
and  assembled  in  the  palace  of  the  said  com- 
monwealth at  the  sounding  of  a  bell,  and  by 
the  voice  of  the  crier  according  to  custom,  at 
the  summons  of  the  noble  and  valiant  knight, 
Messer  Mino  de'  Tolomei  of  Siena,  the  honor- 
able Podesta  of  the  Commonwealth  and  people 
of  said  city  of  San  Gimignano  ...  the  noble 
Dante  Alighieri,  Ambassador  of  the  Common- 
wealth of  Florence,  explained  to  the  assembled 
Council  on  behalf  of  said  Commonwealth,  how 
it  was  expedient  at  that  time  for  all  the  citi- 
zens of  the  Tuscan  League  to  hold  a  parliament 
and  discussion  in  a  certain  place  for  the  elec- 
tion and  confirmation  of  a  new  captain,  and 
how  further  it  was  expedient  that  the  high 
syndics  and  ambassadors  of  said  city  should 
assemble  themselves  for  the  despatch  of  said 
business."  * 

The  Embassy  proved  successful,  as  the  record 
states  that  the  proposition  of  the  Florentine 
Ambassador  having  been  debated  was  approved 
and  ratified  by  the  Council. 

Dante  was  married  to  a  Donati  and  as  we 
have  seen,   among  his  chosen  companions  in 

» Translation  of  record  cited  by  Paget  Toynbee,  DanU  Alighieri, 
P-73- 


V 


A 


(i.fi 


76 


DAUTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


I*. 

k 


? 


*^ 


1/ 


that  period — possibly  brief — of  his  declension, 
was  the  wild  Forese  Donati,  himself  a  poet,  the 
brother  of  the  handsome,  gallant,  and  ambitious 
Corso  Donati,  who  led  the  Pistoian  and  Luc- 
can  reserves  in  the  battle  of  Campaldino  and 
who  by  flanking  the  Aretini  hastened  the  great 
victory.  Portraits  of  both  of  them  are  given 
by  Dante  in  his  immortal  gallery:  of  Forese 
beseeching  that  his  wife  Nella  will  continue  to 
pray  for  him;  and  of  Corso  dragged  to  death 
by  his  horse  in  the  hour  of  his  final  defeat. 

Corso's  ambition  had  brought  on  him  the 
suspicion  and  hatred  of  opponents  powerful 
enough  to  drive  him  from  Florence,  and,  re- 
pairing to  Rome,  he  applied  to  the  Pope  and, 
it  is  related,  urged  him  to  bring  Charles  of 
Valois  to  Italy  to  subdue  Florence.* 

The  Pope  who  had  now  succeeded  to  the 
Chair  of  St.  Peter  was  Boniface  VIII,  astute, 
ambitious,  able.  He  from  the  beginning  cast 
envious  eyes  on  the  fair  and  wealthy  province 
of  Tuscany  with  its  beautiful  capital  on  the 
Arno  and  he  was  but  too  ready  to  listen  to  any 
suggestion  that  would  bring  Tuscany  within 
his  estates;  within  the  patrimony  of  St.  Peter. 

*  For  this  account  as  for  much  else  I  am  indebted  to  the  recent 
Study  of  Dante  by  Doctor  Vittorio  TurrL 


DANTE  AND  FLORENCE 


77 


The  situation  in  Germany  where  an  interreg- 
num existed  favored  him  and  he  had  strong 
adherents:  Black  Guelfs  in  Florence  as  shown 
by  the  judgment  passed  there  on  three  bankers 
who  had  plotted  with  him  to  bring  him  there; 
and  now  the  fresh  quarrels  between  the  Cerchi 
and  the  Donati  promised  him  the  opportunity 
of  a  House  divided  against  itself. 

The  quarrels  culminated  toward  the  end  of 
June,  when,  during  a  procession  on  the  vigil  of 
St.  John  the  Baptist,  the  Consuls  of  the  guilds 
were  assaulted,  and  to  settle  the  quarrel  the 
leaders  of  both  sides  were  banished.  Among 
them,  on  the  one  side,  was  Dante's  friend, 
Guido  Cavalcanti  of  the  Whites,  on  the  other, 
Corso  Donati  of  the  Blacks.  Corso  went  to 
Rome  and  applied  to  Boniface,  and  he  sent 
for  Charles  of  Valois,  who  came  with  alacrity. 

Dante  Alighieri,  Guelf  as  he  had  been  and 
Ghibelline  as  he  became,  withstood  boldly  the 
encroachments  actual  and  threatened  on  the 
Liberties  of  Florence.  We  find  him  stoutly 
withstanding  the  pretensions  of  the  Successor  of 
St.  Peter,  and  when  Boniface  demands  that  the 
Republic  aid  him  with  her  troops,  we  find  him 
rising  in  his  place  and  firmly  moving,  ^*Quod 
de  Servitio  faciendo  Domino  Pape  nihil  fecit'' 


A 


■•*' 


''\ 


W 


h 


1^ 

r' 

V  " 


f$ 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


He  was  elected,  doubtless,  mainly  because  of 
his  firm  espousal  of  the  rights  of  the  Citizens 
of  Florence,  but  possibly  also  because  of  his 
reputation  as  a  poet,  as  one  of  the  Priors  for 
the  term  of  two  months  from  June  15  to 
August  15,  a  promotion  to  which  he,  in  a  letter, 
now  lost,  attributed  all  his  succeeding  woes. 

In  face  of  the  imminent  peril  to  their  Liber- 
ties, both  Florence  and  Bologna  sent  embassies 
to  Rome  to  make  submission  to  Boniface  and 
Dante  was  among  the  envoys  from  Florence. 
The  mission  was  a  complete  failure.  Boniface 
would  never  have  such  another  chance.  The 
want  of  an  Emperor  on  the  throne  left  no  rival 
there  to  contest  his  pretensions.  The  Blacks  of 
Tuscany  might  never  again  be  so  ready  to 
espouse  a  foreign  cause;  to  submit  so  unre- 
servedly to  his  demands  and  to  deal  so  com- 
pletely with  his  opponents. 

So  Charles  of  Valois  was  sent  for  "to  compose 
the  troubles";  was  invested  at  Rome  with  the 
Crown  of  Sicily,  and  on  the  ist  of  November, 
1 301,  entered  Florence  with  his  cavalry  amid 
the  acclaims  of  the  fickle  populace  and  the 
triumphant  shouts  of  the  Black  Guelfs.  He 
came,  says  Dante,  Con  la  lancia  con  la  qual 
Giostro  giuda. 


\ 


DANTE  AND  FLORENCE 


79 


The  victors  were  not  long  in  settling  their 
scores.  Proscription  and  prosecution  began 
promptly  and  were  pushed  remorselessly. 

We  have  from  the  pen  of  Dino  Compagni, 
who  was  himself  one  of  the  Savi  during  Dante's 
Priorate,  a  vivid  picture  of  the  events  of  that 
tragic  time  in  Florence  not  unworthy  of  Dante 
himself. 

It  was  a  veritable  Reign  of  Terror.  Among 
the  victims,  Dante  Alighieri,  with  four  others: 
Gherardino  Diedate;  Palmieri  Altovi;  Lippo 
Becchi;  Folanduccio  Orlandi,  after  having  been 
summoned  and  cried  by  a  trumpet  through  the 
streets  of  the  city  and  suburbs  of  Florence  for 
barratry,  illicit  gain,  iniquitous  extortion  of 
money  and  goods,  were,  on  the  27th  of  Jan- 
uary, 1302,  sentenced  in  contumaceam  quod 
darent  sive  expenderent  contra  summum  Pon- 
tificem  et  Dominum  Carolum  pro  resist ensa 
sui  adventus,  vel  contra  statum  pacificum  civi- 
tatis  Florentiae  et  partis  Guelforum,  and  was 
condemned  to  pay  a  fine  of  5,000  florines;  to 
make  restitution  of  all  things  illegally  extorted, 
and  should  they  not  pay  within  three  days,  their 
goods  were  to  be  confiscated  and  their  property 
sacked.  Naturally,  they  did  not  appear.  They 
knew  better  than  to  do  that.    Dante  himself 


w 


A 


8o 


VAmE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


i 


I 


I 


i\ 


1  ■( 


il 


is  said  to  have  been  in  Rome.  It  is  hardly 
likely.  And  so  on  the  loth  of  March,  some 
forty  days  later,  they  were  taken  to  have  con- 
fessed the  crimes  charged  against  them  and  a 
second  sentence  was  passed  on  them  that 
should  any  one  of  them  be  found  at  any  time 
within  the  jurisdiction  of  Florence,  he  should 
be  burned  alive,  sic  quod  moriatur. 

It  was  a  savage  sentence  that  Boniface  had 
passed,  to  burn  Dante  and  his  friends  to  death, 
should  they  be  caught.  But  Dante  changed 
the  hunter  to  the  quarry.  He  has  burned 
Boniface  in  Hell  throughout  the  Ages.  Six 
hundred  years  later,  a  successor  of  Boniface 
has  reversed  the  sentence  of  his  predecessor. 
I  wonder,  could  Dante  recast  his  sentence, 
would  he  reverse  it?  He  held  that  God's 
wrath  was  sweetened  to  him  by  the  foreknowl- 
edge that  his  punishment  was  eternal. 

Happily  for  us  the  stern  exactions  of  Public 
Life  had  not  completely  weaned  the  Poet  from 
his  first  and  supreme  Love.  They  only  deep- 
ened his  channel  and  broadened  his  current. 
And  we  know  that  when  he  left  Florence  and 
started  on  that  long  exile  which  he  was  to 
mourn  for  nearly  twenty  years  and  Florence 
forever  after,  he  left  behind  him  already  written 


DANTE  AND  FLORENCE 


8i 


possibly  seven  Cantos  of  the  poem  which  was 
to  make  his  name  immortal.  Happily  for  the 
world,  it  was  conceived  and  started  in  the 
midst  of  scenes  so  vital,  so  replete  with  passion 
that  it  could  not  but  itself  absorb  and  reflect 
the  vivid  passion  of  the  action  amid  which  it 
was  cast. 

Bom  with  unequalled  genius  in  a  time  when 
all  things — however  vexing  to  his  soul — worked 
together  to  bring  that  genius  to  its  supreme 
climacteric,  he  passed  through  experiences 
physical,  intellectual,  and  spiritual  which  bore 
him  to  the  deepest  Hell  and  lifted  him  to  the 
highest  Heaven. 

He  studied  as  a  student  deeply;  he  fought  as 
a  soldier  bravely  in  the  front  ranks;  he  served 
as  a  public  man  zealously;  he  went  on  embassies; 
he  contended  as  a  free  citizen  earnestly;  he 
withstood  all  imposition  or  attempted  imposi- 
tion firmly — perhaps,  furiously;  he  was  defeated, 
driven  forth;  libelled,  exiled,  defamed,  perse- 
cuted; his  enemies  were  powerful  Kings  and 
Popes;  his  home  was  sacked,  his  property  con- 
fiscated, himself  condemned  to  be  burnt  alive 
should  he  be  caught  on  his  native  soil;  he  lived 
and  died  an  exile,  poor,  proud,  eating  the  bit- 
ter bread,  chmbing  the  steep  stairs  of  others 


/ 


1 1- 


82 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


r 


I 


I 


*v 


,1  ^'' 


—till  he  died.  And  all  the  time  he  was  bear- 
ing in  his  soul  the  immortal  vision  that  made 
the  women  of  Verona  point  to  him  and  ex- 
claim: "Ecco  Tuomo  che  e  stato  nell'  inferno." 
("Look,  there's  the  man  who  has  been  in 
Hell.")  Ah!  yes,  the  man  had  been  in  Hell; 
but  the  poet  had  also  been  in  Paradise. 

If  Dante,  however,  was  shy  he  had  too  just 
an  appreciation  of  his  gifts  not  to  be  proud. 
His  lofty  self-confidence  in  his  powers  rings 
throughout  his  work. 

He  tells  in  the  Paradiso  (Canto  XXH)  that 
It  was  from  the  stars  under  which  he  was  bom 
—the  Gemini— that  he  derived  his  intellect — 
his  genius.  He  comes  to  them  again  in  Para- 
dise and  invokes  their  aid: 


M 


O  gloriose  stelle,  o  lume  pregno 

di  gran  virtu,  dal  quale  io  riconosco 

tutto,  qual  che  si  sia,  lo  mio  ingegno. 

A  voi  devotamente  ora  sospira 
Tanima  mia  per  acquistar  virtute 
al  passo  forte,  che  a  se  la  tira." 

But  we  have  his  portrait  by  Villani,  a  con- 
temporary of  Dante:  "This  man,  although  a 
layman,  was  a  great  scholar  in  almost  every 
science;  he  was  a  most  excellent  poet,  philos- 
opher and  rhetorician;  perfect  as  well  in  com- 


nP'' 


DANTE  AND  FLORENCE 


83 


position  and  versifying  as  in  speaking;  a  most 
noble  orator.  .  .  .  This  Dante  by  reason  of 
his  learning  was  a  little  haughty,  shy  and  dis- 
dainful and  like  a  philosopher  almost  ungra- 
cious; he  knew  but  little  how  to  deal  with  the 
unlettered." 

In  this  connection  it  is  well  to  give  Boccac- 
cio's portrait  of  him:  "Our  Poet  was  of  me- 
dium height,  his  face  was  long,  his  nose  aquiline, 
his  jaw  large  and  his  lower  lip  protruded  some- 
what beyond  the  upper,  a  little  stoop  in  the 
shoulders;  his  eyes  rather  large  than  small, 
dark  of  complexion,  his  hair  and  beard  thick, 
crisp  and  black,  and  his  countenance  always  sad 
and  thoughtful.  His  garments  were  always 
dignified,  the  style  such  as  suited  ripeness  of 
years.  His  gait  grave  and  gentleman-like  and 
his  bearing,  whether  in  public  or  private,  won- 
derfully composed  and  polite.  In  meat  and 
drink  he  was  most  temperate.  He  seldom 
spake  save  when  spoken  to,  though  a  most 
eloquent  person.  In  his  youth  he  delighted  in 
music  and  singing  and  was  inclined  to  solitude, 
familiar  with  few  and  always  assiduous  in  study 
so  far  as  he  could  find  time  for  it.  Dante  also 
had  a  marvellous  capacity  and  most  tenacious 
memory." 


A 


«4 


BANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


DANTE  AND  FLORENCE 


8S 


The  anecdotes  about  him,  except  those  sug- 
gested in  his  own  work  which  testify  his  hu- 
mility before  God  and  his  Love,  portray  him, 
all  save  one,  as  a  man  of  supreme  intellect, 
proud  and  self-contained,  as  is  natural  to  one 
who  in  his  thoughts  lived  in  fellowship  with 
that  high  school  of  song  and  the  other  Grandi 
whose  portraits  he  has  hung  over  the  altars 
where  the  human  spirit  goes  for  absolution. 

There  is  a  story  of  him  that  can  only  be  ap- 
preciated if  it  be  understood  that  the  term 
"animal"  is  as  deadly  an  insult  as  can  be  ap- 
plied in  Italy  to  any  one — which  tells  how  on 
an  occasion  when  he  was  in  the  Duomo  wrapped 
in  meditation  and  devotion  he  was  interrupted 
by  an  atheist,  a  pedantic  and  garrulous  person 
for  whom  he  had  little  esteem.  He  turned  to 
him  and  asked,  "What  is  the  greatest  animal  ?" 
"Why,"  said  the  other,  "the  elephant,"  and 
began  to  quote  Pliny  as  authority  for  the  fact; 
but  Dante  cut  him  short,  saying,  **Go  away, 
elephant." 

Another  story  of  him  tells  how  being  once 
in  Verona  at  the  table  of  his  protector  and 
patron.  Can  Grande,  his  host — or,  some  say 
others  of  the  guests — seeing  him  greatly  ab- 
stracted attempted  to  play  a  practical  joke  on 


him  and  had  a  servant  take  the  bones  from 
the  plates  of  the  other  guests  and  place  them 
beside  Dante,  who  was  too  abstracted  to  ob- 
serve it  until  Can  Grande  himself  called  the 
attention  of  the  other  guests  to  the  evidences 
of  the  Poet's  vast  appetite.  Dante's  retort  to 
his  tormentors  was:  "It  shows,  at  least,  that  I 
am  not  as  great  a  dog  as  some  others  or  I  should 
have  eaten  the  bones." 

Yet  another  story  illustrative  of  the  Poet's 
pride  and  of  the  times  is  given.  His  fame  hav- 
ing reached  the  Court  of  King  Robert  of 
Naples,  the  poet  was  invited  to  visit  him  and 
travelled  down  from  Ancona  to  do  so.  On  his 
arrival  he  was  shown  to  a  place  at  the  foot  of 
the  royal  table  on  account  of  the  shabbiness  of 
his  garments.  His  royal  host  having  taken  no 
notice  of  him,  when  dinner  was  ended,  Dante 
immediately  left  the  palace  and  started  back 
on  his  return  to  Ancona  whence  he  had  come. 
The  King  after  dinner  having  taken  his  rest 
inquired  about  Dante,  and  having  learned  that 
he  had  left  and  started  back  on  his  return  to 
Ancona,  sent  messengers  after  him  who  over- 
taking him  on  the  road  brought  him  back  to 
King  Robert's  Court,  where  Dante  having  at- 
tired himself  in  a  richer  robe,  a  seat  was  pro- 


u 


86 


BANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUBNCM 


vided  for  him  at  the  head  of  the  table  near 
that  of  his  royal  host.     During  the  meal  Dante 
began  to  smear  on  his  robe  gravy  and  wine, 
whereupon  the  King  rebuked  him,  demanding 
why  he  should  act  in  so  idiotic  a  manner.    To 
this  Dante  replied  that  he  was  the  same  per- 
son who  had  been  seated  at  the  foot  of  the 
table  when  he  was  in  poorer  raiment  and  that 
as  the  seating  in  his  present  place  was  evi- 
dently  intended  for  his  richer  robe  he  thought 
the  occasion  should  be  availed  of  and  the  robe 
fed  rather  than  himself.     Upon  this  the  King, 
according  to  the  story,  feeUng  the  justice  of  the 
rebuke  presented  him  with  a  rich  robe  and 
treated  him  thereafter  with  high  consideration. 
We  have  his  outward  semblance  painted,  ac- 
cording to  tradition,  by  the  greatest  Master  of 
his  time,  his  friend,  Giotto,  in  a  fresco  on  a  wall 
of  the  Bargello,  a  fitting  setting  for  the  Poet  of 
Poets.     Ignorant  hostility  covered  and  lost  it 
once.     It  was    actually   painted   over.    Time 
and  the  futile  desire  to  better  it  have  dimmed 
it;  but  even  so,  it  stands  mellowed  and,  per- 
haps, more  representative  of  the  pensive  mys- 
tic who  through  the  ages  passes  by  in  calm 
consciousness  of  his  lofty  detachment  from  all 
that  is  common  and  unclean. 


DANTE,    FROM    ORCAGNA's    FRESCO    OF    THE    LAST   JUDG- 
MENT IN  THE  STROZZI  CHAPEL,  STA.  MARIA  NOVELLA 


86 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


vided  for  him  at  the  head  of  the  table  near 
that  of  his  royal  host.     During  the  meal  Dante 
began  to  smear  on  his  robe  gravy  and  wine, 
whereupon  the  King  rebuked  him,  demanding 
why  he  should  act  in  so  idiotic  a  manner.    To 
this  Dante  replied  that  he  was  the  same  per- 
son who  had  been  seated  at  the  foot  of  the 
table  when  he  was  in  poorer  raiment  and  that 
as  the  seating  in  his  present  place  was  evi- 
dently intended  for  his  richer  lobe  he  thought 
the  occasion  should  be  availed  of  and  the  robe 
fed  rather  than  himself.     Upon  this  the  King, 
according  to  the  story,  feeling  the  justice  of  the 
rebuke  presented  him  with   a  rich   robe  and 
treated  him  thereafter  with  high  consideration. 
We  have  his  outward  semblance  painted,  ac- 
cording to  tradition,  by  the  greatest  Master  of 
his  time,  his  friend,  Giotto,  in  a  fresco  on  a  wall 
of  the  Bargello,  a  fitting  setting  for  the  Poet  of 
Poets,    Ignorant  hostility  covered  and  lost  it 
once.     It   was    actually   painted   over.    Time 
and  the  futile  desire  to  better  it  have  dimmed 
it;  but  even  so,  it  stands  mellowed  and,  per- 
haps, more  representative  of  the  pensive  mys- 
tic who  through  the  ages  passes  by  in  calm 
consciousness  of  his  lofty  detachment  from  all 
that  is  common  and  unclean. 


"■ 


DANTF,    FROM    ORCACiNA  S    FRESCO    OF    THE    LAST   JUDG- 
MENT IN  THE  STROZZI  CHAI'EL,  STA.  MARIA  NOVELLA 


DANTE  AND  FLORENCE 


«7 


There  are  numerous  other  putative  portraits; 
as,  for  example,  the  full-length  portrait  by 
Michellino  in  Santa  Maria  del  Fiore;  the  por- 
trait by  Amico  di  Sandro  and  other  suppositi- 
tious effigies;  but  this  is  the  one  that  the  world 
has  chosen  by  unanimous  voice  as  the  Poet. 
This  is  that  Dante,  after  he  had  shaven  his 
curled,  dark  beard,  or  possibly  before  he  let  it 
grow,  pictured  by  Boccaccio. 

A  century  later,  Leonardo  Bruni  tried  his 
hand  at  giving  "the  life  and  habit  of  the  man." 
"He  was  a  man  of  great  refinement;  of  medium 
height  and  with  a  pleasant,  but  deeply  serious 
face.  He  spoke  seldom;  and  then  slowly;  but 
was  very  subtle  in  his  replies.  Courteous,  spir- 
ited and  full  of  courage,  he  took  part  in  every 
youthful  exercise.  He  omitted  naught  of  polite 
and  social  intercourse.  It  was  remarkable 
that  though  he  studied  incessantly  none  would 
have  supposed  from  his  happy  manner  and 
youthful  way  of  speaking  that  he  studied  at 
all." 

But  as  there  are  other  effigies  of  Dante  than 
Giotto's  proud,  calm  figure  on  the  Bargello 
wall,  so  there  is  another  description.  Villani, 
who  knew  him,  says  in  his  chronicle:  "This 
Dante  from  his  knowledge  was  somewhat  pre- 


» 


88 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


ii 


sumptuous,  harsh  and  disdainful,  Hke  an  un- 
gracious philosopher;  he  scarcely  deigned  to 
converse  with  laymen.  But  for  his  other  vir- 
tues, science  and  worth  as  a  citizen  it  seems  but 
reasonable  to  give  perpetual  remembrance  in 
this  our  chronicle." 

Such  appeared  Dante  to  his  contemporaries 
and  those  who  followed  soon  after  his  time. 
To  us  he  is  known  also  and,  mentally,  even 
better  than  to  them,  for  the  years  that  have 
mellowed  his  portrait  have  fixed  it  forever  in 
the  Gallery  of  the  Immortals. 

Of  the  other  alleged  portraits  of  Dante  which 
are  very  numerous,  discussions  may  be  found  in 
several  learned  works.  The  Pretended  Death- 
mask  and  the  Naples  Bust  have  been  measured 
and  accepted  or  rejected  from  generation  to 
generation;  and  whatever  the  sages  may  de- 
cide, the  public  has  accepted  at  last  the  bust 
as  the  effigy  of  the  stem  poet  of  the  Inferno.* 

*  Those  portraits  which  date  from  Giotto  to  Raphael  have  been 
fully  discussed  in  a  careful  and  laborious  study  by  Richard  Thayer 
Holbrook,  and  later  by  Professor  Frank  Jewett  Mather,  Jr.  Many 
of  the  greatest  of  the  Italian  Masters  tried  their  hands  at  repro- 
ducing the  semblance  of  the  greatest  painter  of  them  all — Sig- 
norelli,  some  twenty  times,  Raphael,  not  so  often,  but  several 
times,  each  endeavoring  to  do  honor  to  the  greatest  of  the  poets, 
who  stands  in  their  frescoes  sternly  pensive,  crowned  with  his 
immortal  laurel  and,  like  the  eagle,  grasping  the  symbol  of  his 
immortal  power. 


Ill 


DANTE'S  PROSE 

Dante's  relation  to  Literature,  however,  even 
though  posterity  is  mainly  interested  in  and 
concerned  with  his  presentation  of  the  passion 
of  the  Human  soul  through  his  incomparable 
poems,  is  by  no  means  confined  to  such  expres- 
sion. He  undertook  to  analyze  and  to  lay 
down  the  philosophy  of  the  relation  of  the  ex- 
pression of  thought  and  passion  to  language, 
both  in  prose  and  verse;  and  both  in  Latin  and 
the  Lingua  Volgare.  He  began  by  maintain- 
ing that  the  real  power  and  beauty  of  a  tongue 
are  tested  rather  in  its  prose  than  in  its  poetry. 
In  the  beginning  he  had  been  the  champion  of 
the  Classical  Latin  against  the  Italian  Vernac- 
ular which  he  then  held  was  but  fit  to  serve 
the  former  as  a  handmaid.  But  in  practice  he 
was  ere  long  the  best  exponent  of  the  latter. 
In  its  use  he  emancipated  the  handmaid  and, 
endowing  it  with  the  power  of  freedom,  en- 
riched it  with  the  strength  and  the  grace  of 

eloquence  in  prose  and  passion  in  poetry.     He 

89 


90 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


may  be  said  to  have  made  the  Italian  Language 
and  has  been  said  by  so  great  an  Italian  as 
Mazzini  to  have  made  it. 

In  the  Vita  Nuova  he  gives  his  views — in 
Italian — briefly  on  the  subject  of  the  relative 
use  and  value  of  prose  and  verse.  (Vita  Nuova, 
XXV.) 

In  the  Convito  he  has  a  treatise  on  Literary 
Criticism  and  defends  with  his  customary  power, 
the  use  of  the  popular  or  vernacular  tongue  in 
preference  to  the  language  of  scholars,  though 
he  declares  the  structure  of  the  latter  is  more 
beautiful. 

In  his  treatise,  De  Volgari  Eloquentia,  he  goes 
deeper  and  proceeds  to  analyze  more  fully  the 
languages  and  their  capacity  for  expression. 
It  is  said  to  be  the  first  work  on  Romance 
philology. 

The  Vita  Nuova  is  the  work  of  a  young  man, 
absolute  in  his  surrender;  arrogant  in  his  as- 
sumption of  singularity  of  devotion,  soaring 
unconsciously  into  airy  regions  of  sentiment, 
revelling  in  abject  submission  to  Love.  It  has 
the  marks  of  youth  stamped  on  it  and  all 
through  it  in  its  frank  statement  of  entire  sur- 
render to  its  supreme  commander:  Love — its 
passionate   and   egotistic   grief,  its  ingenuous 


B ANTES  PEOSB 


9« 


demand  of  sympathy.  Its  unguarded  and  un- 
trammelled and  boundless  protestations  of  love 
are  all  the  natural  fruit  of  youth.  But  it  is  not 
only  not  the  less  impressive  for  this,  it  is  all  the 
more  impressive  in  its  sincere  and  unconscious 
assertion  of  unparalleled  love  and  sorrow.  It  has 
all  the  freshness  of  youth — of  immortal  youth 
and  immortal  love.  It  is  as  a  love-story  and 
as  an  analysis  of  a  love-stricken  heart  unparal- 
leled in  Occidental  literature.  And  since  that 
time  all  the  historic  love-poems  have  been 
moulded  on  its  imperishable  lines  and  have  in 
a  measure  reflected  something  of  its  immortal 
spirit. 

In  the  Convito,  written  years  later  when 
Dante  had  grown  older  by  perhaps  ten  years, 
when  measured  by  time,  and  much  older  than 
that  as  measured  by  experience  of  well-nigh  all 
the  ills  that  can  assail  a  man,  "Toil,  envy, 
want,  the  patron  and  the  jail,"  or  worse,  for  he 
had  lost  home,  family,  and  was  under  sentence 
of  death  in  its  most  shameful  and  cruel  form 
in  his  native  city,  he  wrote  a  further  chapter 
in  his  spiritual  experience  and,  as  became  its 
new  subject,  in  a  different  strain. 

"If  in  the  present  work,"  he  sajrs,  "which  is 
called  'The  Banquet,'  the  discourse  be  more 


93 


DANTB  AND  HIS  INPLUBNCB 


virile  than  that  of  the  New  Life,  I  do  not  there- 
fore intend  to  discredit  the  latter  in  any  re- 
spect; but  much  more  to  confirm  that  work  by 
this,  seeing  how  reasonably  it  behoves  that  that 
should  be  fervid  and  impassioned,  this  tem- 
perate and  virile  ...  for  in  the  former,  I 
spoke  at  the  entrance  of  my  youth,  in  the  latter, 
youth  has  gone." 

He  was  now  on  his  way  to  his  great  achieve- 
ment and  his  soul,  chastened  by  misfortune 
and  uplifted  by  aspiration  to  the  Heavens,  was 
following  the  light  of  philosophy  and  was  facing 
toward  the  high  goal,  where  having,  through 
whatever  sorrows,  through  whatever  toil,  been 
led,  it  was  to  find  Divine  Grace  waiting  to  lead 
him  into  the  light  to  that  which  eye  hath  not 
seen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither  hath  it  entered  into 
the  heart  of  man.  By  the  time  his  Love  had 
deepened,  had  broadened;  had  risen  and  soared 
on  the  wings  of  a  divinely  inspired  imagination 
until,  immeasurable  by  any  dimension,  it  took 
in,  in  mystical  comprehension,  the  universe  and 
was  become  the  servant  at  the  feast  of  inspired 
reason. 

Tlie  Convito,  or  Banquet,  was  never  com- 
pleted. It  was  planned  by  Dante  to  contain, 
in  an  introduction  and  fourteen  other  parts. 


DANTE'S  PROSE 


93 


commentaries  on  his  Canzoni,  a  form  of  poetry 
affected  by  the  Italian  Poets  and,  as  it  were, 
the  parent  of  the  English  Ode.  The  fourteen 
commentaries  were  also  to  cover  the  broad 
field  of  Philosophy  supported  by  all  the 
learning  of  the  age.  We  have,  however,  only 
four  of  the  designed  fourteen  parts,  the  In- 
troduction and  three  other  parts. 

In  this  work  he  selects  the  common  Italian 
tongue,  and  in  the  first  part,  he  justifies  its 
employment  as  against  the  Latin;  but  his  best 
argument  is  his  own  use  of  it.  Italians  hold  it 
the  first  piece  of  true  Italian  prose  and,  in  its 
way,  it  stands  to  them  somewhat  as  Milton's 
prose  stands  to  Englishmen  of  culture — in  a 
place  to  itself.  In  the  three  parts  following  the 
introduction  he  discusses  three  of  his  own 
Canzoni,  Nos.  VI,  VII,  and  VIII.  They  are  all 
replete  with  learning  and  cover  so  large  a  field 
of  discussion  and  imagination  that  one  wonders 
what  the  other  eleven  would  have  contained. 

Presently  after  the  Convito  came  the  in- 
complete Educational  treatise  on  the  philos- 
ophy of  the  Italian  Language:  De  Volgari  Elo- 
quentia,  of  which  only  two  of  the  four  books 
which  he  obviously  intended  to  write  have  come 
down  to  us.     It  probably  followed  the  Convito 


04 


DANTE]  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


and  It  was  written  in  Latin,  the  language 
of  Scholars  and  manifestly  for  Scholars.  In  it 
he  gives  his  views  on  the  language  of  Poetry 
and  Prose.  It  deals  with  the  fourteen  Italian 
dialects,  most  of  which  he  was  destined  to  ban- 
ish from  Italy,  all  of  which  to  modify,  by  in- 
corporating the  choicest  parts  of  them  in  one 
supreme  work  in  which  all  Italians  take  equal 
pride.  He  discusses  with  absorbing  interest 
the  metre  of  the  Canzone,  a  form  of  Poem  in 
which  he  had  perfected  himself — and  of  which 
he  makes  Bonagiunta  of  Lucca,  whom  he  meets 
in  Purgatory,  declare  him  the  inventor.  (Pur- 
gatory, Canto  XXIV.) 

The  work  came  to  a  stop  in  the  middle  of  the 
XlVth  Chapter  of  the  Second  Book  in  which 
he  was  discussing  the  structure  of  the  stanza; 
but  from  what  cause  he  abandoned  it,  is  not 
known.  The  most  probable  conjecture  would 
appear  to  be  that  he  merely  wearied  of  it,  or 
that  he  was  called  off  by  some  exigency  of  his 
uncertain  life  as  a  stranger  in  a  foreign  country 
and  that  later  more  important  or  more  interest* 
ing  subjects  engrossed  his  thoughts. 

In  the  Second  Book  he  casts  a  light  on  his 
conception  of  his  own  work.  Referring  to  the 
themes  that  others  have  dealt  with  in  the  vul- 


DANTE*S  PROSB 


95 


gar  tongue  he  declares  that  his  own  theme  has 
been  Righteousness. 

Among  the  writings  of  Dante  known  to  us 
are  eleven  letters,  all  probably  written  in  Latin, 
though  a  quotation  from  one  of  his  Letters  is 
made  in  Italian  by  Villani,  who  says,  "these  are 
Dante's  very  words." 

Besides  these  there  were  a  number  of  other 
letters  now  lost,  which  are  referred  to  by  his 
earlier  biographers.  Three  of  those  among 
others  written  during  his  exile,  are  characterized 
as  "Noble  Letters,"  by  Villani.  These  were  ad- 
dressed respectively  to  the  Government  of 
Florence  reproaching  her  for  his  exile;  to  the 
Emperor  Henry,  then  besieging  Cremona,  re- 
proaching him  for  his  delay,  and  to  the  Car- 
dinals urging  them  to  put  an  end  to  the  inter- 
regnum after  Pope  Clement  V  and  elect  an 
Italian  Pope.    This  letter  is  lost. 

These  letters  were  not  the  simple  expression 
of  mere  social  correspondence.  They  were  for 
the  most  part  serious  disquisitions  on  subjects 
that  engrossed  his  thoughts  and  bore  on  the 
development  of  the  thought  of  the  Time. 

They  were,  in  a  way,  Hke  the  epistles  of  St. 
Paul,  only  more  like  pronunciamentoes,  and 
some  were  possibly  suggested  by  them.    At 


96 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


least,  it  is  beyond  question  that  Dante  had  St. 
Paul's  experience  rooted  deep  in  his  mind  and 
must  often  have  felt  the  influence  of  the  great 
Apostle  to  the  Gentiles. 

These  epistles  were  mainly  treatises  or  mani- 
festos;^ but  some  were  concerned  with  his  own 
affairs.  But  so  were  St.  Paul's  epistles.  One, 
that  he  wrote  as  a  young  man  on  the  death  of 
Beatrice,  mentioned  in  his  Vita  Nuova,  has  not 
come  down  to  us.  It  was  addressed  to  the 
principal  personages  of  Florence.  Others  also 
have  been  lost.  In  order,  those  that  we  have 
are:  Epis.  I.  To  Cardinal  Nicolo  da  Prato; 
II.  To  a  Pistoijean  Exile;  IV.  To  Marchese 
Moroello  Malaspina;  V.  To  the  Peoples  and 
Princes  of  Italy;  VI.  To  the  Florentines;  VII. 
To  the  Emperor  Henry;  VIII.  To  the  Empress 
Margaret;  IX.  To  the  Italian  Cardinals;  X.  To 
a  Gentleman  of  Florence;  XL  To  Can  Grande 
delta  Scala. 

Besides  these,  there  is  the  other  letter  to 
Guido  da  Polenta,  giving  an  account  of  his 
mission  to  Venice,  the  authority  of  which,  how- 
ever, is  questioned,  as  it  well  may  be,  at  least, 

^  P.  Toynbee,  LetUrs  of  DanU  Alighitru    U  LeiUn  di  DanU; 
Arnaldo  Gonti,  MUamx 


DANTE S  PROSE 


97 


by  the  Venetians,  for  it  presents  a  picture  of 
them  at  that  time  as  far  as  possible  from  the 
popular  idea  of  their  culture  and  magnifi- 
cence. 

From  the  day  that  Dante  left  Florence  in  the 
shadow  of  the  imminent  judgment  of  death  and 
attainder  against  him,  we  have  no  certain 
knowledge  of  his  movements  during  some  time. 
We  have  only  fleeting  and  uncertain  glimpses 
of  him,  as  he  appears  and  disappears  spectre- 
like  at  this  point  or  that,  at  this  castle  or  that 
court,  though  hardly  a  mountain  or  paest 
existing  in  North  Italy  but  points  with  pride 
to  the  rock  or  parapet  where  Dante  dreamed. 
It  may  well  be  that  he  wandered  far  and  wide. 
We  only  know  that  Fortune  had  dictated  judg- 
ment against  him. 

The  ItaHan  scholars  wlio  have  traced  every 
footstep  and  sifted  every  tradition  of  the  great 
Master,  assert  that  he  was  at  the  Conference 
of  San  Godenzo,  a  solitary  church  in  the  Mugel- 
lan  Alps,  where  the  Bianchi  and  the  Ghibelline 
exiles  assembled  on  June  8,  1302,  to  plan  the 
Mugellan  war  on  Florence  which  ended  in  the 
defeats  of  Pulicciano  and  Lastro;  that  he  was, 
at  least,  cognizant  of  the  fierce  attack  made 


98 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLVENCB 


p..  1     I 

\ 
i 


by  the  Neri  in  September,  1302,  under  Moroello 
Malaspina  on  the  Bianchi  under  Serravalle, 


M 


G>n  tempesta  impetuosa  ed  agra 
Sopra  Campo  Piceno." 


In  that  autumn  he  was  in  Forli  inciting  Scar- 
petta  degli  OrdalafE  to  engage  in  the  second 
Mugellan  war  against  Florence,  and  they  say 
that  he  later  participated,  at  least,  by  counsel, 
in  the  third  and  last  war  that  bears  that  name. 
But,  alas  for  him,  he  was  never  to  see  again  his 
bel  San  Giovanni. 

During  his  sad  wanderings  of  several  years 
hither  and  yon  from  town  to  town  and  castle  to 
castle  of  nobles  who  received  the  exile  already 
illustrious;  his  vagrancy  which,  as  he  tells, 
brought  him  the  "humiliation  of  appearing 
'vile'  in  the  eyes  of  some  who  had  perhaps 
imagined  him  *per  alcuna  fama  in  altra  forma* 
('through  a  certain  renown,  in  another  guise')" 
brought  also,  he  relates,  the  greater  humilia- 
tion of  making  less  prized  all  his  work;  both 
that  already  done  and  that  which  remained 
to  do. 

Between  1306  and  1308  he  was  the  guest  of 
the  Counts  Guidi  in  the  Casentino;  then  of  the 
Marchcse  Malaspina,  both  families  of  wealthy 


l^. 


DANTE'S  PROSE 


99 


nobles  with  sundry  castles,  renowned  "per  uso 
e  natura,"  "per  il  pregio  della  borsa  e  della 
spada." 

Then  he  found  securer  refuge  and  hospi- 
tality with  the  Scaligeri  of  Verona.  He  re- 
fers to  it  as  his  first  refuge: 


«< 


Lo  primo  tuo  refugio  e  il  primo  ostello 
sai^  la  cortesia  del  gran  Lombardo 
che  in  su  la  scala  porta  il  santo  uccello. 


»» 


It  was  while  under  the  protection  of  the 
great  Lombard  that,  according  to  Boccaccio, 
Villani  and  Benvenuto  da  Imola,  the  Exile 
was  able  to  extend  his  wanderings  not  only 
throughout  Lombardy  but  as  far  as  Paris. 

Also  it  is  believed  that  during  these  years  the 
Exile  visited  Venice  and,  possibly,  the  regions 
beyond  washed  by  the  gulf  of  Guarnaro  which 
he  was  later  to  establish,  at  least,  in  Italian 
minds  as  the  confine  of  Italy. 

It  was  the  27th  of  November,  1308,  that  the 
Seven  Electors  chose  Henry  of  Luxemburg 
Emperor  of  the  Holy  Roman  Empire.  The 
Pope  confirmed  the  Election  and  promised  to 
crown  him  in  Rome.  Henry  marched  into 
Italy  and  by  Epiphany  of  13 11  was  in  Milan 
and  received  the  homage  of  Dante's  friends: 
the  great  Ghibelline  nobles  like  the  Scaligheri 


too 


DANTB  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


( 


U 

I 


and  the  Malaspini.  Dante's  hopes  revived. 
He  had  already  addressed  his  famous  epistle 
to  the  Lords  and  peoples  of  Italy  calling  on 
them  to  arise  and  avail  themselves  of  the  ac- 
cepted time — of  the  day  of  Salvation.  But 
although  those  who,  like  Dante,  favored  the 
Holy  Roman  Empire  idea  even  with  a  Ger- 
manic head  were  powerful,  there  were  plenty 
of  others  who  espoused  the  other  view,  and 
among  them  Dante's  enemies  who  still  ruled 
Florence,  and  shut  her  gates  against  Henry,  as 
many  other  cities  did. 

In  April  (i8),  1311,  Dante  addressed  his 
epistle  to  the  Emperor  invoking  him  to  hasten 
to  subdue  Florence,  the  fox  that  drank  neither 
of  the  Po  nor  the  Tiber,  the  pest  that  was 
breeding  distemper  in  his  flock.  And  a  lit- 
tle later  Dante  addressed  his  fiery  epistle 
to  the  Florentines  themselves,  calling  down 
on  them  all  the  judgments  of  oflFcnded 
Heaven. 

Florence,  meantime,  was  strengthening  her 
walls  and  endeavoring  also  to  strengthen  her- 
self within  by  instituting  reforms.  A  partial 
amnesty  was  declared  (September  2)  but  those 
not  true  Guelfs  were  excepted,  and  Dante  was 
excepted  by  name. 


DANTE'S  PROSE 


zoi 


The  consequences  will  be  recalled  by  all  in- 
terested in  that  period.  Henry  repaired  to 
Rome  where  he  was  crowned  June  12,  13 12,  in 
St.  John  Lateran,  because  the  Leonine  City 
with  St.  Peter's  was  held  by  the  Orsini  and 
Colonnas.  Clement  V,  now  removed  to  Avi- 
gnon under  the  protection  of  the  Angevins,  or- 
dered Henry  to  desist  from  his  proposed  expedi- 
tion against  the  King  of  Naples  and  to  leave  the 
estates  of  the  Church.  The  Emperor  replied 
with  spirit  and  the  breach  was  completed. 
Henry  proceeded  finally  against  Florence  and 
the  other  cities  of  the  Guelf  League  which  re- 
sisted his  enterprise,  but  died  at  Buonconvento 
near  Siena,  August  24, 13 13,  after  a  brief  illness 
caused,  as  many  believed,  by  poison.  So  fell 
Dante's  last  hopes. 

Pope  Clement  V  died  the  year  following, 
13 14,  and,  the  year  following  that,  Philip  the 
Fair  of  France  passed  to  his  final  account — also 
he  passed  to  his  final  account  in  history  written 
by  Dante's  avenging  pen,  which  terms  him,  il 
mal  di  Francia,  il  nuovo  Pilato,  for  having 
abandoned  to  the  hatred  of  his  enemies  at 
Anagni,  the  Vicar  of  Christ  and  thrown  against 
the  order  of  the  Templars  his  veiled  cupidity. 
Later  on,  for  a  time  the  Ghibellines  looked  up 


\i 


-} 


I03 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


once  more  and  Dante  with  them,  especially 
when  the  young  prince,  Can  Grande,  showed 
the 

*'favelle  della  sua  Yirtute  in  non  curar  d'argento,  nd  d'af- 
fanni," 

and  won  victories  over  Padua  worn  down  by  the 
long  struggle  with  Viccnza,  and  when  Ugoccione 
della  Faggiola,  who  had  united  the  lordship  of 
Lucca  to  that  of  Pisa,  inflicted  on  August  15, 
13 15,  at  Monte  Catine  a  tremendous  defeat  on 
the  Guelf  party. 

It  was  in  this  year  that  some  mitigation 
of  Dante's  sentence  and  that  of  his  sons, 
had  been  carried  in  Florence,  and  permission 
to  return  had  been  granted  the  exiles  on  the 
humiliating  terms  which  Dante  so  firmly  re- 
jected, whereupon  the  new  sentence  was  passed 
November  6,  1315,  against  the  Ghibellines  and 
rebels  condemning  them  to  be  drawn  ''ad  locum 
justitiae  et  ibi  eisden  caput  a  spatulis  amputetus, 
ita  quod  penitus  moriantur."  The  victories  of 
the  gallant  Ghibelline  chief,  Ugoccione  della 
Faggiola,  had  not  eventuated  in  the  final  suc- 
cess which  had  been  hoped  for,  and  Dante, 
wearied  and  seeking  peace  and  quiet  to  complete 
his  great  work,  which  was  to  win  him  more 
far-reaching  victories  than  either  that  of  Can 


DANTE'S  PROSE 


103 


Grande  or  of  Ugoccione,  received  and  accepted 
the  invitation  of  Guido  Novello  da  Polenta, 
Lord  of  Ravenna,  and  with  him  found  a  refuge 
for  the  last  three  years  of  his  life.     With  him 
in  Ravenna  in  these  last  years  were  his  sons, 
Pietro  and  Jacopo,  both,  like  him,  under  sen- 
tence of  death  in  Florence,  and  his  daughter, 
to  whom  he  had  given  the  beloved  name  of 
Beatrice.    These  last  years  during  which  the 
poet  "gave  himself  with  intense  labor  to  com- 
pleting his  Poem;  to  avail  himself  of  the  counsels 
and  offices  of  the  Polentano,  who  likewise  in- 
dulged in  poetry  and  art;  in  arguing  now  seri- 
ously, now  keenly,  of  the  style  and  develop- 
ments with  his  devoted  friends  who  like  Pier 
Giardini  of  Ravenna,  Dino  Pierini,  a  Floren- 
tine, Feduccio  de'  Milotti,  the  physicist  and 
philosopher    of   Certaldi    (Boccaccio's    fellow 
citizen),   Bernardo  Canaccio,   the  Archbishop 
Rainaldo  Concoreggio,  who  had  frequented  the 
court  of  Pope  Boniface,  and  perhaps  Giotto, 
called  at  that  time  from  Ferrara  to  paint  in  the 
Church  of  San  Francesco— tempered  the  bitter- 
ness in  the  great  soul  of  the  exile  with  hope  of 
a  no  distant  return  to  his  Patria.*' 

In  these  years  immersed  in  an  atmosphere 
breathing  of  the  pines  and  the  sea,  and  passing 


i\ 


l< 


Ul 


h 


i 


104 


DANTB  AND  HIS  INPLUBNCB 


i 


daily  among  scenes  which  recalled  to  him  the 
works  of  three  great  Revannans:  Romoaldo  Pier, 
Damiani  and  Pietro  Peccatore  and  that  of  the 
"Emperor,  just  and  wise,  who  amid  the  splen- 
dor of  the  mosaic,  appeared  to  call  him  with 
clear  voice,  Cesare  fui  e  son  Giustiniano,"  he, 
as  if  to  conclude  better  his  work  as  poet  in 
the  traces  and  in  the  idioms  of  that  author 
and  master  with  whom  he  gloried  to  have 
begun  it,  addressed  two  eclogues  in  Latin 
to  Giovanni  del  Virgilio,  two  eclogues  whose 
reposeful  and  idealic  sweetness  attested  how 
a  stormy  Ufe  was  now  sealing  its  close 
with  a  placid  and  serene  sunset.  The  Bologna 
humanist,  to  whom  were  known  the  name  and 
the  genius  of  Alighieri  and  the  cantos  of  the 
Commedia  already  circulated,  had  written  him 
toward  the  last  of  1320,  an  epistle  saluting  him 
as  the  master  and  urging  him  in  a  friendly 
spirit  to  leave  the  humble  vulgar  speech  and 
the  kingdom  of  the  dead  and  to  sing  in  the 
language  of  the  Fathers,  the  deeds  of  the  liv- 
ing. And  he  invited  him  to  Bologna  where  he 
himself  would  be  proud  to  present  him  to  the 
schools  and  masters,  his  illustrious  temples 
bound  with  odorous  Peneian  garlands. 
I  would  that  I  could  give  the  entire  corre- 


•i< 


DANTE'S  PROSE 


loS 


spondence  with  Dante's  reply  in  the  Virgilian 
manner,  but  this  must  be  left  with  much  more 
that  I  would  give.  It  all,  however,  finds  a  cer- 
tain echo  in  Dante's  poem,  or,  perhaps,  we 
might  say  the  aroma  of  it  all  is  there,  as,  for 
example,  the  stanzas  which  Turri  quotes,  as  he 
finds  therein  the  impress  and  traces  of  the  long 
wanderings  which  were  to  come  to  an  end  in 
Ravenna  on  that  14th  day  of  September,  six 
hundred  years  ago. 

No  exile  in  all  history  appears  to  have  suf- 
fered so  much  from  his  banishment.  No  im- 
prisoned eagle  ever  beat  so  fiercely  against  the 
bars  of  his  cage  as  Dante  beat  against  the  bars 
that  shut  him  out  from  Florence.  He  fought 
•against  it  so  long  as  he  had  strength— he  caught 
at  every  chance  to  break  down  the  wall  that 
caged  him  in  the  outer  world  and  to  the  day  of 
his  death  he  raged  against  the  sentence.  And 
yet  when  the  sentence  after  long  years  was  re- 
vised in  1316  and  he  was  granted  leave  to  re- 
turn on  conditions  that  appeared  to  him,  as 
they  were,  in  fact,  ignoble,  he  rejected  the 
proflFered  pardon  with  righteous  scorn. 

In  one  of  his  letters— to  a  churchman  of 
Florence— he  writes  as  a  gentleman  should. 
He  says: 


i 


1   ^ 


io6 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


'.| 


"From  your  letter  which  I  received  with 
due  respect  and  affection  I  observe  how  much 
you  have  at  heart  my  restoration  to  my  coun- 
try. I  am  bound  to  you  the  more  gratefully, 
inasmuch  as  an  exile  rarely  finds  a  friend.  .  .  . 
Your  nephew  and  mine  has  written  to  me, 
what  indeed  had  been  mentioned  by  many 
other  friends:  that  by  a  decree  concerning  the 
exiles,  I  am  allowed  to  return  to  Florence,  pro- 
vided I  pay  a  certain  sum  of  money  and  submit 
to  the  humiliation  of  asking  and  receiving  abso- 
lution; wherein  my  Father,  I  see  two  proposi- 
tions that  are  ridiculous  and  impertinent.  I 
speak  of  the  impertinences  of  those  who  men- 
tioned such  conditions  to  me,  for  in  your  letter 
guided  by  judgment  and  discretion  there  is  no 
such  thing.  Is  such  an  invitation  then  to  re- 
turn to  his  country  glorious  to  Dante  Alighieri 
after  suffering  in  exile  almost  fifteen  years  ?  Is 
it  thus  they  would  recompense  innocence  which 
all  the  world  knows  and  the  labor  and  fatigue 
of  unremitting  study  ?  Far  from  the  man  who 
is  familiar  with  philosophy  be  the  senseless 
baseness  of  a  heart  of  earth  that  could  act  like 
a  certain  Ciolus  and  imitate  the  infamy  of  some 
others  by  offering  himself  up.  as  it  were  in 
chains. 


ft 


IV 


DANTE'S  PROSE 


107 


"My  Father,  this  is  not  the  way  that  shall 
lead  me  back  to  my  re  antry.  I  will  return 
with  hasty  steps  if  you  or  any  other  can  open 
to  me  a  way  that  is  not  derogatory  to  the  fame 
and  honor  of  Dante.  But  if  no  such  way  can 
be  found  then  Florence  I  shall  never  enter. 
Shall  I  not  everywhere  enjoy  the  light  of  the 
sun  and  stars  and  may  I  not  seek  and  con- 
template in  every  corner  of  the  earth  under  the 
canopy  of  Heaven  consolation  and  delightful 
trust  without  first  rendering  myself  inglorious, 
nay,  infamous,  to  the  People  and  RepubHc  of 
Florence  ?     Bread  I  hope  will  not  fail  me." 

It  was  the  sentence  of  1302  that  caused 
Dante's  worldly  ruin;  destroyed  his  happiness, 
and  endowed  the  world  with  its  greatest  epic  and 
him  with  perpetual  fame.  For  three  years  he 
vainly  strove  to  overthrow  the  power  that  made 
him  an  exile,  living  on  the  bitter  bread  of 
others'  charity  and  chmbing  the  painful  stairs 
of  others.  At  length,  wearying  of  the  violence 
of  those  about  him;  the  vile  and  worthless  com- 
pany with  whom  the  exile  must  consort,  he 
settled  down  to  hopeless  exile  and  on  that 
bitter  bread  and  by  those  painful  stairs  he 
climbed  to  an  eminence  from  which  he  might 
laugh  to  scorn  all  who  had  embittered  him. 


io8 


DANTB  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


I 


Great  visions  sometimes  come  to  exiles  shut 
off  and  isolated  from  the  moral  things  of  Life: 
John  on  Patmos;  Francis  in  his  cell;  Dante  in 
his  Exile's  Study;  Grotius  in  his  garret.  And 
now  a  great  vision  was  coming  to  this  exiled 
Florentine  and  changing  him  into  an  Italian; 
the  Spirit  of  Justice  was  illuminating  his  soul 
and  from  his  own  consciousness  of  Right, 
he  was  evolving  the  fundamental  laws  not 
alone  for  Italy,  but  for  all  Mankind. 

In  his  De  Monarchia  he  attempted  the  high 
task  of  presenting  the  scheme  of  Government 
of  the  world  on  fundamental  lines  of  Justice 
and  Wisdom,  as  he  conceived  them. 

He  was  now  engaged  in  the  endeavor  not 
only  to  bring  about  in  the  only  way  that  ap- 
peared feasible  to  him  a  Universal  Peace 
founded  on  the  principles  of  Justice  for  all; 
but  to  formulate  a  plan  which  should  per- 
petuate such  a  peace.  If  he  accepted  the  estab- 
lished forms  of  Government  of  his  time  and 
started  with  postulates  of  a  Divine  Order  of 
Human  Government  manifested  in  an  Imperial 
form  which  later  experience  has  finally  dis- 
carded, it  does  not  affect  the  greatness  of  his 
conception.  His  aim  was  the  same  with  that 
which  we  have  seen  attempted  with  such  far 


DANTE'S  PROSE 


109 


vision  and  lofty  spirit  in  our  own  day.^  The 
supreme  Head  was  to  be  supreme  only  that  he 
might  effect  Justice.  His  power  was  to  be  un- 
limited only  that  it  might  defeat  Evil  and 
establish  Right.  Under  this  Head  all  States 
should  be  equal  and  independent  one  of  the 
other,  and  thus  all  should  be  free. 

Mark  this.    If  trammelled,  as  we  may  think 
now,  with  the  old  half-childish  ignorances  and 


^  If  a  personal  allusion  in  this  connection  may  be  pardoned  I 
will  relate  an  instance  of  what  I  refer  to:  When  in  the  Winter  of 
1916-17  the  President  of  the  United  States,  having  matured  his 
plan  for  our  entering  the  war  took,  as  will  be  recalled,  a  number  of 
steps  to  warn  the  warring  Countries  of  his  intentions  and  to  ex- 
plain to  those  who  shall  come  after  us  the  grounds  of  his  actions, 
he  had  a  great  vision  which  he  believed  might  be  realized  should 
all  America,  actuated  by  the  high  motives  which  actuated  him 
and  which  were  almost  universally  professed,  follow  his  lead. 
It  was  no  less  than — ^first,  the  lifting  of  the  contest  to  the  plane 
of  Right  by  the  announcement  of  the  principles  on  which  America 
entered  the  war,  and  secondly,  the  Disarmament  of  the  Nations 
and  the  prevention  of  any  such  future  world-wars  by  the  united 
action  of  the  combination  of  nations  and  peoples  of  the  world  in 
a  League  to  be  formed  for  that  purpose. 

Preliminary  to  such  a  step  as  was  contemplated  a  number  of 
communications  were  addressed  to  the  several  Governments  an- 
nouncing the  President's  intentions.  Among  these  one  was  sent 
.to  the  American  Ambassador  to  Italy  to  deliver  to  the  Royal 
Italian  Goverximent.  This  was  duly  done,  the  notes  being  handed 
to  the  Italian  Nfinister  for  Foreign  Affairs,  Baron  Sidney  Sonnino. 
The  note  to  which  reference  is  now  made  having  been  read  aloud 
with  absorbed  interest  by  the  Minister,  he  fell  to  pondering  it  u 
silence  and  presently  I  asked: 

'WeU,  what  do  you  think  of  it?" 

'It  it  very  high,"  said  he  reflectively. 


ti} 


«i 


r 


I     *' 


k 


', 


\  '.'■ 


>  ■■ 


I. 


lie 


DANTE  AND  BIS  INPLUBNCB 


i 


I 


superstitions  of  his  time,  he  deals  with  phys- 
ical and  material  elements  in  his  vision,  he  yet 
uses  them  but  as  symbols  of  the  spiritual  idea 
he  formulates. 

If  Dante's  dream  and  scheme  were,  however, 
different  from  that  which  under  the  menace  of 
well-nigh  world-wide  war  recently  drew  for  a 
brief  period  the  minds  of  men  to  a  vision  of 
world-wide  Peace,  they  were  only  different  as 
conditions  were  different.  His  scheme  was  for  a 
World  at  Peace  under  an  Emperor,  supreme  and 


it 


"Do  you  think  it  Utopian  ?' 

"No,  not  Utopian;  but  perhaps  somewhat  premature  ...  we 
may  not  yet  be  ready  for  it  .  .  ,  but  perhaps  some  time."  He 
paused;  reflected;  and  then  said— and  this  is  why  I  am  relating 
the  incident: — 

"Dante  had  some  such  idea.  In  his  De  Monarchia  he  pro- 
mulgates his  idea.  In  fact,"  he  added,  "some  years  ago  I  de- 
livered a  conference  on  the  Vlth  Canto  of  the  Paradiso  and  dis- 
cussed a  little  this  matter.  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  the  way  to  work 
out  the  plan  practically;  and  the  mind  that  conceived  this  must 
have  worked  out  something  to  put  it   into    practical    opera- 


nt 


tion. 

I  have  given  the  substance  of  what  was  said  on  this  point  by 
the  able  Italian  Minister  for  Foreign  AflFairs,  than  whom  I  saw 
no  abler  Statesman  in  Europe  during  the  war  and  few  who  ap- 
proached him.  Indeed,  to  my  mind,  although  he  had  certain 
individual  failings,  as  being  too  reticent  and  aloof,  he  was  the 
ablest  public  man  in  Europe  who  came  under  my  observation 
during  the  war. 

I  returned  to  the  Chancery  and  telegraphed  home  a  despatch 
giving  a  report  of  Sonnino's  reception  of  the  Note,  and  I  reported 
what  he  said  of  Dante's  views,  and  added  this;  "When  Dante  i$ 
quoted  here  he  is  quoted  as  the  highest  authority." 


i  I 


DANTE S  PROSE 


HI 


benevolent — so  supreme  that  he  could  covet  no 
more  power;  for  there  would  be  none  to  covet; 
so  benevolent  that  he  must  use  his  supremacy 
for  the  good  of  all. 

It  was  not  merely  a  dream;  for  in  his  de 
Monarchia  and  Convito  he  labored  his  plan 
with  almost  as  much  care  as  Moses  worked  out 
his  for  the  Guidance  of  Israel  when  on  the 
threshold  of  the  Promised  Land.  He  brought 
to  it  all  the  learning  of  the  time,  all  the  au- 
thority of  the  sages,  and  lent  to  it  all  the  reason- 
ing of  his  mighty  intellect,  all  the  power  of  his 
vast  imagination.  Augustine  had  planned  and 
reasoned  of  a  City  of  God — Dante  would  rele- 
gate Ecclesiastical  authority  to  its  proper  prov- 
ince: the  Spiritual  in  life  and  would  create  a 
country  of  God  under  Civil  Rule.  The  grey- 
hound should  drive  back  the  wolf  and  the  flock 
should  feed  beside  still  waters. 

Although  he  addressed  himself  to  a  Germanic 
Emperor,  that  he  had  in  mind  the  Italian  Peo- 
ple as  the  Chosen  People  and  Italy  as  the  seat 
and  centre  of  this  perfect  Imperial  Government 
cannot  be  doubted.  It  was  the  Holy  Roman 
Empire  that  was  to  bring  Peace  to  a  distracted 
Earth  and  although  we,  with  wider  experience 
and  the  light  that  those  shed  abroad  who  built 


I! 


1 


m 


m 


HI 


I 


112 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


this  Nation  as  the  home  of  a  Truer  Liberty  than 
Dante  knew,  have  attained  to  a  juster  concep- 
tion of  Liberty,  it  should  be  remembered  that 
Dante  founded  his  whole  plan  on  an  assumption 
of  universal  Justice,  and  universal  Peace. 

The  accepted  principle  then  was  that  Kings 
could  do  no  wrong.  Dante  was  more  ad- 
vanced; yet  even  so,  Dante's  view  was  that 
though  Kings  could  do  wrong,  Emperors — such 
Emperors  as  he  had  in  mind,  would  do  none. 
We  may  recall  that  the  son  of  Marcus  Aurelius 
was  Commodus  and  the  successor  of  the  William 
II  of  1900  was  the  William  II  of  1914,  and  that 
his  Royal  and  Apostolic  Majesty,  the  Emperor 
Francis  Joseph,  adored  in  Austria,  was  known 
in  Italy  as  "L'imperatore  degli  impiccati." 

It  must  be  recalled  that  as  amid  the  strife 
and  clangor  of  a  world  given  up  to  universal 
warfare,  bloodshed,  and  brutality  with  no  se- 
curity for  life  or  quietude  save  behind  walls  of 
guarded  monastery  or  castle,  and  little  there, 
he  studied  the  history  of  the  past,  in  all  that 
long  period  the  only  government  he  found, 
which  had  given  peace  to  mankind,  was  the 
Roman  Empire  under  Augustus-and  in  that 
period  Christ  was  bom.  God  had  chosen  to 
come  down  on  the  earth.  The  age  was  meta- 
physicaly  and  Dante,  steeped  in  the  metaphysical 


DANTE'S  PROSE 


X13 


teachings  of  the  great  Doctors  of  Divinity,  con- 
ceived of  all  that  took  place  under  the  Divine 
order  as  a  symbolism,  expressive  of  that  order. 
Not  Thomas  Aquinas  nor  Bonaventura  was 
more  penetrated  with  theology  or  with  mysti- 
cism. Hell,  Purgatory,  and  Paradise  were  as 
real  to  him  as  Earth. 

In  his  conversion,  as  it  has  been  termed,  he 
was  turned  wholly  to  things  of  the  Spirit — not 
to  religious  oflBces — that  was  for  the  Priest;  but 
to  that  which  these  offices  and  the  ceremonies 
symbolized — the  promotion  of  justice  and 
equity.  The  flagrant  violation  of  the  basic 
principles  of  the  Church  revolted  him,  the 
formalism  exasperated  him.  In  his  Bel  San 
Giovanni  he  breaks  the  marble  coping  about  a 
font,  to  rescue  a  child  that  had  fallen  in  and 
was  in  danger  of  its  life — an  act  of  impiety. 
He  saw  no  hope  of  restoring  Religion  to  its 
purity  save  by  bringing  back  the  Church  to  its 
spiritual  duty  and  establishing  the  Temporal 
Power  in  the  hands  of  the  successor  of  Augustus, 
Constantine,  and  Justinian.  All  looked  back  to 
the  reign  of  Augustus  as  the  golden.  He  with- 
stood the  prelates — even  the  supreme  Pontiff 
and  resisted  Charles  of  Valois  in  favor  of  the 
just  rights  of  the  people. 

Yet  although  the  experience  of  six  hundred 


'! 


114 


VANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


years  more,  with  the  final  cataclysm  into  which 
Imperiahsm  at  its  best  and  worst  has  brought 
the  world,  has  overthrown  beyond  redemption 
Dante's  carefully  elaborated  scheme,  it  has  not 
yet  afFected  the  loftiness  of  his  conception  nor 
the  wisdom  of  his  aim.  Indeed,  the  very  com- 
pleteness of  the  catastrophe  in  which  vaulting 
ambition  overleaping  itself  has  involved  the 
world  has  brought  it  apparently  nearer  to  the 
consummation  he  had  in  mind,  though  the 
means  are  the  reverse  of  those  of  which  he 

dreamed. 

If  he  conceived  of  a  great  State  with  a  head 
wise,  suprenie,  and  satisfied,  it  was  that  Peace 
and  Happiness;  Truth  and  Justice;  Religion 
and  Piety  might  be  established  throughout  the 
world  for  all  generations. 

If  that  conception  was  linked  with  an  im- 
measurable power  vested  in  one  person  which 
we  now  know  to  belong  only  to  Deity,  it  must 
be  remembered  that  the  Roman  Empire  still 
existed;  that  it  bore  by  common  consent  the 
name  of  Holy;  that  the  whole  world  of  Culture 
regarded  it  as  the  fixed  order  no  less  than  de- 
vout Catholics  to-day  regard  as  such  the  Holy 
See;  and  that  the  question  raised  was  not,  as  to 
whether  there  should  be  an  Empire  with  a  head 


DANTE'S  PROSE 


"S 


possessing  imperial  powers:  but  whether  this 
or  that  man;  this  prince  or  that  Bishop  were 
the  true  successor  of  the  Divine  Augustus  and 
should  be  the  Head.  There  were  numerous 
Republics  in  Italy.  Florence  was  a  republic, 
as  were  Genoa  and  Venice;  but  these  republics 
were  the  prey  of  faction  and  strife  and  they 
were  always  at  war  with  each  other,  and  Life 
even  at  its  best  was  in  the  midst  of  Death  by 
violence  and  men  were  crying  out,  "How  long, 
O  Lord,  how  long?"  All  looked  back  to  the 
reign  of  Augustus  as  the  golden  age  when  there 
was  universal  peace — and  God  willed  to  come 
to  Earth  to  bring  peace  to  men's  souls.  And  all 
Italians  looked  on  Rome  as  the  Divinely  Ap- 
pointed to  carry  out  the  great  scheme.  God 
had  appointed  Augustus  and  Peter  and  Con- 
stantine — in  however  different  ways,  and  the 
question  was  not  whether  the  one  or  the  other 
was  divinely  appointed;  but  which  appoint- 
ment outranked  the  other.  And  so  Dante, 
without  sacrificing  aught  of  the  Rights  of  the 
separate  States,  or  of  individuals,  as  he  under- 
stood them,  was  for  a  great  unquestioned.  Cen- 
tral Authority,  as  supreme  and  pacific  as  Au- 
gustus; as  devout  as  Constantine;  as  devoted 
to  Law  and  Order  as  Justinian.    If  the  Em- 


•  ^1 


xi6 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


m 


peror  were  Henry  of  Luxemburg  what  mat- 
tered it  ?  He  was  better  than  Charles  of  Valois 
and  the  Black  Guelfs  of  Florence.  He  would 
reign  as  Roman  Emperor  and  Florence  would 
govern  herself  undisturbed  in  her  dream  of 
Beauty.* 

*  Cf.  Brycc's  Holy  Roman  Empire,  chap.  XXII. 

Baron  Sonnino  once  said  to  me  that  Italians  cared  more  for 
the  substance  of  Liberty  than  for  the  form  of  Government.  In 
his  own  part  of  the  country,  Tuscany,  there  had  been,  he  said, 
under  the  Grand  Dukes  an  Autocratic  form  of  Government,  yet 
the  People  had  always  felt  themselves  to  be  free  and  had  to  acted. 


I! 


IV 


DANTE  AND  BOCCACCIO;  PETRARCH; 

ENGLISH  POETS 

It  is  the  foible  of  a  considerable  class  of 
critics,  who  have  got  from  the  masters  a 
faint  conception — very  faint,  indeed,  of  the 
art  of  what  is  sometimes  termed  the  Higher 
Criticism,  to  question  everything  that  cannot 
be  proved  by  some  form  of  evidence  which 
squares  with  their  narrow  interpretation  of 
certain  hard  and  fast  rules  which  they  have 
learned  and  often  have  mislearned.  They 
ignore  all  evidence  that  does  not  meet — not  the 
rules  themselves,  but  their  conception  of  those 
rules.  They  question  all  authority  unless  they 
can  measure  it  with  their  very  small  measures 
and  weigh  it  in  their  very  small  scales.  They 
ignore  all  but  the  material.  This,  instead  of 
being  the  higher,  is  in  fact  rather  the  lower  criti- 
cism. It  discards  the  whole  body  of  tradition 
although  its  sources  may  have  sprung  in  the 
very  presence  of  him  who  struck  the  rock  from 

which  gushed  the  fountain.    The  great  prin- 

X17 


'  * 


ii8 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


DANTE  AND  BOCCACCIO 


IIQ 


ri 


it 


M 


ciple  of  Credo  is  slain  by  Gnosco  as  Abel  was 
by  Cain  and  yet  the  whole  progress  of  life  is 
based  on  man's  belief  and  when  with  his  lim- 
ited vision  he  begins  to  insist  that  he  has  ar- 
rived at  complete  knowledge  he  is  already  on 
the  perilous  road  of  sheer  pragmatism  beyond 
which  lies  the  dark  abyss  of  blind  egotism. 

Although  no  one  has  been  subjected  to  more 
searching  inspection  than  Boccaccio  I  feel  that 
he  is  in  many  respects  the  highest  authority 
on   his   great   countryman.     He  was   born   in 
Dante's  lifetime  and  in  Cernaldo,  a  place  near 
Florence  whither  his  father  moved  very  soon 
after  his  birth,  and  thus,  he  was  brought  up  in 
an  atmosphere  where  Dante's  name  must  often 
have   reached   him   during  his   impressionable 
years.     He  had  a  great— an  unsurpassed  liter- 
ary gift,  and  felt  the  inspiring  influence  of  the 
Poet  of  poets,  and  he  became  early  an  ardent 
disciple  of  the  master  and  was  among  his  en- 
thusiastic  admirers.     When  he   had   attained 
place  and  fame,  himself,  he  devoted  his  matured 
powers  to  writing  Dante's  Life  and  comment- 
ing on   Dante's  great  work.     He  bore   more 
than  a  potent  part  in  securing  a  foundation  for 
the  study  in  Florence  of  Dante's  work.     Indeed 
he  brought  this  about  by  his  eloquent  and  fer- 


vent appeals.  And  he  opened  there  the  Dante 
lectures  which  have  since  continued  from  that 
time  throughout  Italy  and  of  which  a  faint 
echo,  very  faint  indeed,  may  now  be  heard  in  a 
secluded  academic  corner  of  the  land  which 
owed  its  discovery  to  the  genius  of  another 
ItaHan,  who,  himself,  might  have  lectured  on 
a  Dante  Foundation.  He  had  reached  the 
seventeenth  Canto  of  the  Inferno— the  seven- 
teenth line  of  it,  say  the  Italians— when  he  was 
stricken  down  by  the  illness  which  caused  his 
death;  but  he  had  laid  the  worid  under  tribute 
to  his  genius  and  he  had  brought  to  a  new  flame 
the  torch  which  his  master  had  lighted  before 
the  disciple  was  bom. 

Boccaccio's  work  contains  in  itself  internal 
evidence  enough  to  satisfy  all  but  the  mere 
journeyman  critic,  that  he  had  devoted  his 
powers  to  collecting  all  of  what  is  now  ternicd 
the  data,  in  other  words,  all  the  informarion 
that  he  could  that  would  throw  light  on  his 
great  subject.  A  part  of  what  he  relates— even 
a  considerable  part  of  it  is  claimed  by  the 
higher  critics  to  be  apocryphal.  But  who 
knows  ?  He  has  been  termed  the  Sentimental 
Biographer.  But  a  Biographer  without  senti- 
ment  is   a   stick,   a   notch-stick,   as   it  were. 


X30 


DANTB  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


DANTE  AND  BOCCACCIO 


X2I 


Therefore,  we  may  turn  to  Boccaccio  as  a  very 
high  authority  on  Dante. 

"Several  years  after  the  composition  of  the 
Vita  Nuova,"  says  Boccaccio,  "Dante,  as  he 
looked  down  from  the  high  places  of  the  govern- 
ment of  the  commonwealth  of  Florence  wherein 
he  was  stationed,  and  observed  over  a  wide 
prospect,  such  as  is  visible  from  such  elevated 
places,  what  was  the  life  of  men,  and  what  the 
errors  of  the  common  herd,  and  how  few,  and 
how  greatly  worthy  of  honor,  were  those  who 
departed  therefrom,  and  how  greatly  deserving 
of  confusion  those  who  sided  with  it,  he,  con- 
demning the  pursuits  of  such  as  these  and  com- 
mending his  own  far  above  theirs,  conceived 
in  his  mind  a  lofty  thought,  whereby  at  one 
and  the  same  time,  that  is,  in  one  and  the 
same  work,  he  purposed,  while  giving  proof 
of  his  own  powers,  to  pursue  with  the  heav- 
iest penalties  the  wicked  and  vicious,  and  to 
honor  with  the  highest  rewards  the  virtuous 
and  worthy,  and  to  lay  up  eternal  glory  for 
himself.  And  inasmuch  as  he  had  preferred 
poetry  to  every  other  pursuit,  he  resolved  to 
compose  a  poetical  work;  and  after  long  medi- 
tation beforehand  upon  what  he  should  write, 
in  his  thirty-fifth  year  he  began  to  devote  him- 


self to  carrying  into  effect  that  upon  which  he 
had  been  meditating,  namely,  to  rebuke  and  to 
glorify  the  lives  of  men  according  to  their  dif- 
ferent deserts.  And  inasmuch  as  he  perceived 
that  the  lives  of  men  were  of  three  kinds — 
namely,  the  vicious  life,  the  life  abandoning 
vices  and  making  for  virtue,  and  the  virtuous 
life — he  divided  his  work  in  wonderful  wise 
into  three  books  comprised  in  one  volume,  be- 
ginning with  the  punishment  of  wickedness  and 
ending  with  the  reward  of  virtue;  and  he  gave 
to  it  the  title  of  Commedia." 

I  wonder  if  we  are  able  to  appreciate  Dante's 
marvellous  gift  of  handling  his  instrument,  the 
Italian  tongue  ?  In  a  fanciful  picture  in  which 
all  the  Rhymes  come  as  maidens  praying  Dante 
to  do  them  the  honor  to  take  them  into  his  ser- 
vice, Benvenuto  da  Imola  gives  us  to  under- 
stand that  Dante  did  not  omit  a  single  rhyme 
of  which  the  Italian  tongue  is  capable. 

This  boundless  facility  of  use  of  the  liquid 
Italian  tongue  is  one  of  the  things  that  gives 
Dante  a  charm  to  the  Italian,  which  is,  per- 
haps, lost  to  all  but  the  delicate  Italian  ear  so 
attuned  to  melody. 

Many,  if  not  most  of  the  stories  of  Dante, 
that  cast  such  light  upon  the  poet,  we  owe  to 


m 


4 

t 

4: 


■I' 


133 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


Boccaccio  and  here  is  one  which  shows  how 
near  we  came  to  suffer  with  Dante  and  lose 
the  great  fruit  of  his  genius. 

"It  should  be  known  that  Dante  had  a  sister, 
who  was  married  to  one  of  our  citizens,  called 
Leon  Poggi,  by  whom  she  had  several  children. 
Among  these  was  one  called  Andrea,  who  won- 
derfully resembled  Dante  in  the  outline  of  his 
features,  and  in  his  height  and  figure;  and  he 
also  walked  rather  stoopmg,  as  Dante  is  said 
to  have  done.    He  was  a  weak  man,  but  with 
naturally  good  feelings,  and  his  language  and 
conduct  were  regular  and  praiseworthy.    And 
I  having  become  intimate  with  him  he  often 
spoke  to  me  of  Dante's  habits  and  ways;  but 
among  those  things  which  I  delight  most  m 
recollecting,  is  what  he  told  me  relating  to 
that  of  which  we  are  now  speaking.     He  said 
then,  that  Dante  belonged  to  the  party  of 
Messer  Vieri  de'  Cerchi,  and  was  one  of  its 
great  leaders;  and  when  Messer  Vieri  and  many 
of  his  followers  left  Florence,  Dante  left  that 
city  also  and  went  to  Verona.    And  on  account 
of  this  departure,  through  the  solicitation  of  the 
opposite  party,  Messer  Vieri  and  aU  who  had 
left  Florence,  especially  the  principal  persons, 
were  considered  as  rebels,  and  had  their  per- 


DANTE  AND  BOCCACCIO 


123 


sons  condemned,  and  their  property  confiscated. 
When  the  people  heard  this,  they  ran  to  the 
houses  of  those  proscribed,  and  plundered  all 
that  was  within  them.  It  is  true  that  Dante's 
wife.  Madonna  Gemma,  fearing  this,  by  the 
advice  of  some  of  his  friends  and  relations,  had 
withdrawn  from  his  house  some  chests  contain- 
ing certain  precious  things,  and  Dante's  writings 
along  with  them,  and  had  put  them  in  a  place 
of  safety.  And  not  satisfied  with  having  plun- 
dered the  houses  of  the  proscribed,  the  most 
powerful  partisans  of  the  opposite  faction  occu- 
pied their  possessions, — some  taking  one  and 
some  another,— and   thus  Dante's  house  was 

occupied. 

''But  after  five  years  or  more  had  elapsed, 
and  the  city  was  more  rationally  governed,  it 
is  said,  than  it  was  when  Dante  was  sentenced, 
persons  began  to  question  their  rights,  on  differ- 
ent grounds,  to  what  had  been  the  property  of 
the  exiles,  and  they  were  heard.  Therefore 
Madonna  Gemma  was  advised  to  demand  back 
Dante's  property,  on  the  ground  that  it  was 
her  dowry.  She,  to  prepare  this  business,  re- 
quired certain  writings  and  documents  which 
were  in  one  of  the  chests,  which,  in  the  violent 
plunder  of  effects,  she  had  sent  away,  nor  had 


n 
\ 


/I 


i     .' 


124 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


she  ever  since  removed  them  from  the  place 
where  she  had  deposited  them.  For  this  pur- 
pose, this  Andrea  said,  she  had  sent  for  him, 
and,  as  Dante's  nephew,  had  intrusted  him 
with  the  keys  of  these  chests,  and  had  sent  him 
with  a  lawyer  to  search  for  the  required  papers; 
while  the  lawyer  searched  for  these,  he,  An- 
drea, among  other  of  Dante's  writings,  found 
many  sonnets,  canzoni,  and  such  similar  pieces. 
But  among  them  what  pleased  him  the  most 
was  a  sheet  in  which,  in  Dante's  handwriting, 
the  seven  first  cantos  of  the  Commedia  were 
written;  and  therefore  he  took  it  and  carried 
it  off  with  him,  and  read  it  over  and  over  again; 
and  although  he  understood  but  little  of  it, 
still  it  appeared  to  him  a  very  fine  thing;  and 
therefore  he  determined,  in  order  to  know  what 
it  was,  to  carry  it  to  an  esteemed  man  of  our 
city,  who  in  those  times  was  a  much  celebrated 
reciter  of  verses,  whose  name  was  Dino,  the 
son  of  Messer  Lambertuccio  Frescobaldi. 

"It  pleased  Dino  marvellously;  and  having 
made  copies  of  it  for  several  of  his  friends,  and 
knowing  that  the  composition  was  merely  be- 
gun, and  not  completed,  he  thought  that  it 
would  be  best  to  send  it  to  Dante,  and  at  the 
same  time  to  beg  him  to  follow  up  his  design. 


DANTE  AND  BOCCACCIO 


X2S 


and  to  finish  it.  And  having  inquired,  and 
ascertained  that  Dante  was  at  this  time  in  the 
Lunigiana,  with  a  nobleman  of  the  name  of 
Malaspina,  called  the  Marquis  Moroello,  who 
was  a  man  of  understanding,  and  who  had  a 
singular  friendship  for  him,  he  thought  of  send- 
ing it,  not  to  Dante  himself,  but  to  the  Marquis, 
in  order  that  he  should  show  it  to  him;  and  so 
Dino  did,  begging  him  that,  as  far  as  it  lay  in 
his  power,  he  would  exert  his  good  offices  to 
induce  Dante  to  continue  and  finish  his  work. 
"The  seven  aforesaid  cantos  having  reached 
the  Marquis's  hands,  and  having  marvellously 
pleased  him,  he  showed  them  to  Dante;  and 
having  heard  from  him  that  they  were  his  com- 
position, he  entreated  him  to  continue  the  work. 
To  this  it  is  said  that  Dante  answered:  *I  really 
supposed  that  these,  along  with  many  of  my 
other  writings  and  effects,  were  lost  when  my 
house  was  plundered,  and  therefore  I  had  given 
up  all  thoughts  of  them.  But  since  it  has 
pleased  God  that  they  should  not  be  lost,  and 
He  has  thus  restored  them  to  me,  I  shall  en- 
deavor, as  far  as  I  am  able,  to  proceed  with 
them  according  to  my  first  design.'  And  re- 
calling his  old  thoughts,  and  resuming  his  in- 
terrupted work,  he  speaks  thus  in  the  beginning 


1^; 


I 


136 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


of  the  eighth  canto:  'My  wondrous  history  I 
here  renew.'" 

The  question  as  to  why  Dante,  a  man  of 
great  learning,  chose  to  write  the  Commedia  in 
Italian,  instead  of  in  Latin,  exercised  the  minds 
of  many  wise  men  of  his  day,  Boccaccio  tells 
us.  His  own  opinion  on  the  subject  he  gives 
as  follows: 

"In  reply  to  this  question,"  he  says,  "two 
chief  reasons,  amongst  many  others,  come  to 
my  mind.  The  first  of  which  is,  to  be  of  more 
general  use  to  his  fellow  citizens  and  other 
Italians;  for  he  knew  that  if  he  had  written 
metrically  in  Latin  as  the  other  poets  of  past 
times  had  done,  he  would  only  have  done  ser- 
vice to  men  of  letters,  whereas,  writing  in  the 
vernacular,  he  did  a  deed  ne'er  done  before, 
and  there  was  no  bar  in  any  incapacity  of  the 
men  of  letters  to  understand  him;  and  by  show- 
ing the  beauty  of  our  idiom  and  his  own  excel- 
ling art  therein,  he  gave  delight  and  under- 
standing of  himself  to  the  unlearned  who  had 
hitherto  been  abandoned  of  every  one.  The 
second  reason  which  moved  him  thereto  was 
this.  Seeing  that  liberal  studies  were  utterly 
abandoned,  and  especially  by  princes  and  other 
great  men,  to  whom  poetic  toils  were  wont  to 


DANTE  AND  BOCCACCIO 


127 


be  dedicated,  wherefore  the  divine  works  of 
Virgil  and  the  other  illustrious  poets  had  not 
only  sunk  into  small  esteem,  but  were  well-nigh 
despised  by  the  most;  having  himself  begun, 
according  as  the  loftiness  of  the  matter  de- 
manded, after  this  guise — 

'Ultima  regna  canam,  fluido  contermina  mundo, 
Spiritibus  qux  lata  patent,  qux  praemia  solvunt 
Pro  mentis  cuicumque  suis,'  etc. 

he  left  it  there;  for  he  conceived  it  was  a  vain 
thing  to  put  crusts  of  bread  into  the  mouths 
of  such  as  were  still  sucking  milk;  wherefore 
he  began  his  work  again  in  a  style  suited  to 
modern  senses,  and  followed  it  up  in  the  ver- 
nacular."   So  far  Boccaccio. 

We  have,  however,  on  the  interpretation  of 
the  Commedia  a  higher  authority  than  even 
Boccaccio:  Dante,  himself.  In  his  noted  letter 
to  Can  Grande  della  Scala  to  whom  he  dedi- 
cated the  Paradiso,  Dante  says: 

"The  subject  of  this  work  must  be  under- 
stood as  taken  according  to  the  letter,  and  then 
as  interpreted  according  to  the  anagogical 
meaning.  The  subject,  then,  of  the  whole 
work,  taken  according  to  the  letter  alone,  is 
simply  a  consideration  of  the  state  of  souls  after 


9 


128 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


death;  for  from  and  around  this  the  action  of 
the  whole  work  turns.  But  if  the  work  is  con- 
sidered according  to  its  anagogical  meaning, 
the  subject  is  man,  liable  to  the  reward  or 
punishment  of  justice,  according  as  through 
the  freedom  of  the  will  he  is  deserving  or  un- 
deserving. .  .  .  The  aim  of  the  work  is  to 
remove  those  living  in  this  life  from  a  state  of 
misery  and  to  guide  them  to  a  state  of  happi- 
ness. .  .  /*  He  then  proceeds  to  explain  to 
his  semi-royal  friend  how  he  came  to  choose 
the  title:  "The  Comedy  of  Dante  Alighieri  a 
Florentine  by  birth,  but  not  by  character."* 
"And  for  the  comprehension  of  this,"  he  pro- 
ceeds, "it  must  be  understood  that  .  •  .  com- 
edy is  a  certain  kind  of  poetical  narrative  which 
differs  from  all  others.  It  differs  from  tragedy 
in  its  subject-matter, — in  this  way,  that  tragedy 
in  its  beginning  is  admirable  and  quiet,  in  its 
ending  or  catastrophe  foul  and  horrible.  .  .  . 
Comedy,  on  the  other  hand,  begins  with  ad- 
verse circumstances,  but  its  theme  has  a  happy 
termination.  .  .  .  Likewise  they  differ  in  their 
style  of  language,  for  tragedy  is  lofty  and  sub- 
Kmc,  comedy  lowly  and  humble.  .  .  .  From 
this  it  is  evident  why  the  present  work  is  called 

^DanU  Jlighicrit  by  Paget  Toynbee,  p.  196  n. 


DANTE  AND  BOCCACCIO 


129 


a  comedy.  For  if  we  consider  the  theme,  in 
its  beginning  it  is  horrible  and  foul,  because  it 
is  Hell;  in  its  ending  fortunate,  desirable,  and 
joyful,  because  it  is  Paradise;  and  if  we  con- 
sider the  style  of  language,  the  style  is  lowly 
and  humble,  because  it  is  the  vulgar  tongue, 
in  which  even  housewives  hold  converse."  ^ 

Dean  Church  in  his  remarkable  study  of 
Dante,  which  brought  him  deserved  recogni- 
tion as  one  of  the  leading  Dantists  of  his  day, 
says,  that  "the  Commedia  first  disclosed  to 
Christian  and  modern  Europe  that  it  was  to 
have  a  literature  of  its  own."  And  he  justly 
observes  that  we  are  now  so  accustomed  to  the 
excellent  and  varied  Literature  of  modern  times 
that  we  can  scarcely  imagine  the  time  when 
Society  was  beholden  to  a  foreign  language  for 
the  expression  of  its  highest  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings. It  was  Dante  who  broke  the  spell  that 
locked  expression  within  this  imperial  prison. 
In  his  philosophical  works  he  paid  to  it  his 
homage,  as  the  Language  possessing  nobleness, 
power,  and  beauty,  because,  he  says,  the  struc- 
ture of  the  Latin  is  a  masterly  arrangement  of 
scientific  art  and  the  beauty  of  the  vulgar  de- 
pends on  mere  use.* 

1  /^.  *  n  Convito,  I,  5. 


V 


i! 

1 


I30 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


When  he  entered  the  lists,  he  was  a  cham- 
pion indeed.  He  scorns  the  affectation^  vain- 
glory, and  cowardice  of  those  who  condemned 
their  mother-tongue:  "that  precious  language" 
which  if  vile  is  so  only  "in  the  prostituted 
mouths  of  those  adulterers."  He  was  destined 
to  give  to  it  all  the  elements  of  nobleness, 
power,  and  beauty,  and  with  it  largely  create 
a  new  Italy  and  a  new  Literature  for  Christen- 
dom. ^ 

There  is  no  poet  to  whom  we  can  liken  him. 
Where  there  is  a  resemblance  it  springs  from 
the  natural  cause  of  their  reflection  of  himself. 
He  preceded  Shakespeare  by  three  hundred 
years  and  Milton  by  something  more  than 
that.  And  he  is  Shakespeare  and  Milton  and 
Bunyan  rolled  into  one  dramatic,  poetic,  ear- 
nest, philosophic,  soaring  soul.  Doctor,  philos- 
opher, seer,  poet,  crusader,  apostle  in  one  hu- 
man unit,  he  spans  the  whole  range  of  human 
experience,  imagination,  and  inspiration.  He 
lays  down  the  law  of  Divine  Justice  and  Omni- 
science with  the  fervor  and  the  steadfastness 
of  a  prophet  of  old.  Does  he  denounce  judg- 
ment, it  is  with  the  power  of  him  who  cries: 
"Thus  saith  the  Lord."  He  has  the  confidence 
of  one  who  has  passed  the  terrors  and  stands  in 


M)l 


DANTE  AND  BOCCACCIO 


131 


his  integrity,  facing  dazzled,  but  unamazed  the 
presence  of  God. 

But  however  great  as  scholar,  philosopher, 
and  apostle  of  freedom;  ethics  and  religion, 
Dante  may  be,  it  is  as  poet,  as  "The  Poet," 
that  his  fame  is  pre-eminent  and  as  "The 
Poet"  he  must  finally  be  judged.  And  as  the 
poet  we  who  have  studied  and  loved  him  and 
become  his  followers  are  content  that  he  should 
be  judged.  Taking  the  old  Greek  definition: 
who  has  been  so  great  a  creator  as  he .?  Who 
has  sounded  so  profoundly  the  depths  as  he? 
But  one — "Nature's  child."  Who  has  ranged 
so  far?  No  one.  Who  has  soared  so  high? 
No  one.  Who  has  had  so  vast  an  influence  on 
the  elevation  of  mankind  ?  Homer  ?  It  is 
only  of  the  Monarch  of  song  that  the  question 
can  be  even  asked.  Shakespeare  and  Milton 
followed  him — and  neither  had  a  wider  gamut 
or  sang  in  more  dulcet  or  majestic  measures. 
Neither  covered  so  broad  a  field,  or  starred  the 
body  of  his  song  with  so  countless  a  multitude 
of  shining  gems. 

Dante  sang  of  Italy  and  Shakespeare  sang 
of  England;  and  both  sang  for  Humanity.  And 
Italy  has  paid  her  tribute  in  the  recognition 
of  the  supreme  honor  he  conferred  on  her. 


h 


I 


1 


ti 


133 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


Hardly  a  river,  valley,  town,  or  hill  throughout 
the  upper  peninsula  but  revels  in  the  tradition 
that  during  his  wanderings  the  Poet's  presence 
consecrated  it,  or  at  least,  his  eyes  rested  on  it 
and  his  soul  drew  inspiration  from  its  beauty 
or  its  majesty.  But  all  Italy  claims  him 
equally;  for  he  was  the  first  of  the  Italians  who 
wrote  in  the  Italian  tongue  and  spoke  to  the 
Italian  heart.  Men  of  great  family  are  proud 
to  claim  descent  from  those  whom  he  dignified 
by  inscribing  their  names  on  his  pictured  page, 
"though  he  sank  them  in  Hell."  The  greatest 
National  Society  in  Italy  to-day  bears  his 
name:  "The  Dante  Alighieri  Society."  The  one 
nationally  political  Society  in  Italy,  it  is  more 
National  than  political,  and  its  National  quality 
is  deeper  than  anything  merely  political  could 
be.  It  goes  to  the  deepest  fountains  of  Italian 
life  and,  inspired  by  the  spirit  which  has  its 
source  in  the  great  Apostle  of  Italian  Liberty, 
it  carries  forward  his  work  in  the  spirit  rep- 
resented in  its  name. 

I  think  that  of  all  the  later  Commentators, 
possibly,  Giuseppe  Mazzini  had  the  truest  ap- 
preciation of  Dante.  In  a  way  possibly  his  life 
more  than  that  of  any  other  commentator  re- 
sembles the  poet's. 


DANTE  AND  BOCCACCIO 


133 


Like  Dante,  "haughty,  disdainful,  untam- 
able," banished,  proscribed,  pursued  by  nais- 
understanding,  malignity,  and  hate,  he  had,  like 
Dante,  deep  rooted  in  his  soul  "the  love  of 
right  and  hatred  of  wrong,"  that  sustained  him 
through  whatever  tempests.  Like  Dante,  pos- 
sibly because  of  Dante,  he  bore  ever  in  his  heart 
the  Titanic  dream  of  an  Italy  at  the  head  of  a 
movement  of  Humanity. 

Purified  like  Dante  by  the  same  fires,  like 
Dante,  "through  this  purification  of  heart,"  he 
passed  from  the  hell  of  struggle  to  the  heaven 
of  Victory — at  the  last. 

A  poet  must  be  the  voice  of  his  conditions, 
and  these  conditions  take  in  his  own  soul  and 
the  soul  of  his  surroundings— and  as  his  vision 
is  wide  and  clear,  or  limited,  his  horizon  is 
broad  or  contracted  and  his  penetration  is  pro- 
found; as  his  imagination  is  unbridled  and  free, 
he  courses  through  wide  regions  or  soars  to 
empyrean  heights;  but  ever  his  own  soul  and 
the  soul  of  the  world  about  it  go  hand  in  hand, 
whether  through  the  lowest  deeps  or  up  the 
loftiest  heights.     Only  the  greatest,  however, 
have  the  power  to  fuse  the  two  and  lift  the 
other  to  a  higher  order.    This  power  Dante 
possessed. 


I 


I 


«• 


»34 


DANTB  AND  HIS  INPLUBNCB 


Job,  David,  Isaiah,  Homer,  Virgil,  John, 
Dante,  Shakespeare,  all  chant  the  passion  of 
their  own  soul  and  the  world-soul  about  them. 
And  as  they  struck  the  chords  to  which  the 
universal  soul  responded,  so  they  have  survived 
and  will  survive  through  the  Ages. 

Emerson,  a  great  poet  himself,  though  he 
had  not  the  gift  of  music,  has  a  notable  essay 
on  Shakespeare  in  which  he  sets  forth  his  re- 
lation to  his  time  and  environment.    He  says 
incidentally  that  he  was  the  Father  of  German 
Literature.    He    declares    that    Shakespeare's 
best  biography  is  that  revealed  in  his  own 
work.    And  surely  this  may  be  said  of  Dante. 
Even  though  Boccaccio's  hand  has  drawn  his 
portrait  with  rare  deftness,  yet  It  is  Dante 
himself  who  has  given  the  world  the  true  por- 
trait of  himself,  set  it  in  the  frame  of  the  Mid- 
dle Age  as  it  drew  to  its  close.     Like  some  of 
the  work  of  the  old  Italian  painters,  portrait 
and  frame  are  both  predous;  for  both  are  from 
a  master  hand. 

"Dante,"  says  Mazzini,  the  great  apostle  of 
Italian  Liberty  and  Italian  Unity,  "has  done 
more  for  Italy,  for  the  glory  and  the  future  of 
her  people  than  ten  generations  of  writers  and 
statesmen. 


DANTE  AND  BOCCACCIO 


X3S 


"Those  outsiders  the  most  eager  to  defame  us 
and  call  us  impotent  stop  almost  in  terror  be- 
fore that  name  which  neither  the  ages;  nor  the 
vileness  of  servitude;  nor  the  tyranny  of  for- 
eigners, of  our  princes  and  of  the  Jesuits  have 
been  able  or  shall  be  able  ever  to  extirpate. 
The  Land  which  has  brought  forth  a  soul  so 
mighty  is  unique  and  contains  in  her  womb  a 
lift  which  is  immortal. 

"All  the  great  Italians  who  have  written  with 
power  and  have  served  to  advance  the  idea  of 
Nationality,  have  drawn  a  large  part  of  their 
inspiration  from  Dante. 

"Dante  may  be  regarded  as  the  Father  of  our 
language.  He  found  it  poor,  uncertain,  puerile; 
he  left  it  full-grown;  rich,  free,  poetic.  He 
culled  the  choicest  flowers  of  all  the  kinds  and 
forms  of  speech  from  all  the  dialects  and  formed 
of  them  one  common  tongue  that  shall  some 
day  represait  among  us  all.  National  Unity, 
and  he  has  represented  it  through  all  the  cen- 
turies of  division  before  foreign  nations. 

•'Oh,  Italians,"  he  said,  "study  Dante,  not 
in  commentaries,  not  in  glossaries,  but  in  the 
history  of  the  age  in  which  he  lived,  in  his  life. 
But  take  care.  There  is  more  than  the  verse  in 
his  poem  and  for  this  do  not  trust  yourselves 


136 


DANTB  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


to  the  grammarians  and  the  interpreters.  They 
are  like  those  who  dissect  dead  bodies — ^you 
see  the  bones,  the  muscles,  the  veins  which 
compose  the  body;  but  where  is  the  spark  that 
animates  it  ?  Do  you  remember  that  Socrates 
declared  the  best  interpreter  of  Homer  to  be 
the  soul  most  inspired  by  the  muses?  Have 
you  a  soul  of  fire  ?  Have  you  ever  felt  the  sub- 
lime shiver  that  ancient  memories  cause? 
Have  you  ever  embraced  the  tombs  of  the  few 
great  who  spent  for  their  country  life  and  in- 
tellect? Have  you  ever  shed  a  tear  for  the 
beautiful  Land  which  hatreds,  parties,  divisions, 
and  foreign  hectoring  have  reduced  to  nothing- 
ness ?  If  you  are  such,  study  Dante.  From 
those  pages  of  profound  energy  seek  that  mag- 
nanimous scorn  with  which  the  illustrious  exile 
nourished  his  soul,  because  rage  against  vice 
and  corruption  is  virtue.  Learn  from  him  how 
to  serve  one's  native  land,  since  to  hope  for  it 
is  not  yet  forbidden;  how  to  live  in  misfortune. 
The  nature  of  things  has  taken  from  us  much; 
but  none  can  take  from  us  our  hearts,  neither 
envy  nor  the  indifference  of  servitude  has  been 
able  to  destroy  the  names  and  the  monuments, 
and  to-day  they  stand  like  those  monuments 
which  face  the  pilgrim  in  the  silent  solitudes  of 


DANTE  AND  BOCCACCIO 


137 


Egypt  and  say  to  him  that  there  once  were 
mighty  cities.  Let  us  wreathe  their  memory 
with  filial  affection.  Every  chaplet  is  a  pledge 
of  glory  for  us.  Nor  can  you  lay  a  sacrilegious 
hand  on  that  crown  which  does  not  make  a 
profound  wound  in  the  honor  of  the  Land  that 
gave  you  birth.  Oh,  Italians,  never  forget  that 
the  first  step  to  make  great  men  is  to  honor 
those  who  have  already  gone." 

How  wonderful  are  the  works  of  God! 
David  the  Shepherd  lad  guarding  his  flock  on 
the  Judean  hills,  and  learning  how  the  Heavens 
declare  the  Glory  of  God  and  the  Firmament 
showeth  his  handiwork,  later  driven  forth  by 
Saul  and  hunted  like  a  partridge  on  the  moun- 
tains; Homer  driven  by  poverty  to  beg  his 
bread  and  pay  therefor  with  strains  as  wonder- 
ful as  those  to  which  "Ilion  like  a  mist,  rose 
into  towers";  Shakespeare  forced  from  Strat- 
ford to  hold  horses  and  call  carriages  at  a 
Theatre  door  and  incidentally  to  find  and  pro- 
duce the  treasure  that  was  to  enrich  the  Stage 
for  all  rime.  And  Dante,  love-stricken  poet; 
serious-minded  burgher  and  Guelf  partisan, 
driven  forth  from  Florence  to  find  refuge  in 
the  houses  of  others,  to  live  from  crust  to  crust, 
to  climb  the  stairs  of  others  and  eat  in  bitter- 


iy 


i 


M 


I  'I 


f: 


138 


DANTB  AND  HIS  INPLVBNCB 


ness  the  salty  bread  of  others  and,  meantime, 
bearing  ever  in  his  heart  the  passion  that  has 
made  the  world  his  debtor,  was  toiling  on  to 
sound  the  depths  of  Hell  and  then  to  reascend 
to  Heaven  itself  and  picture  in  a  new  Apoca- 
lyptic vision  the  seat  and  setting  of  Divinity. 

Many  stories  of  Dante  have  been  collected, 
some  by  his  earlier  biographers:  Boccaccio,  and 
others,  and  some  by  later  investigators;  all  of 
which  throw  a  certain  light  upon  the  poet's 
nature  and  manner  of  life,  and  all  of  which  tend 
to  present  the  poet  as  a  man  independent  in 
thought  and  aloof  in  nature;  conscious  of  his 
great  power  and,  yet,  with  a  certain  uncon- 
sciousness of  testifying  it  in  his  action  which 
places  him  high  above  any  charge  of  simple, 
ignoble  egotism.  One  is  of  his  stay  at  the 
Court  of  Can  Grande — ^The  Great  Dog — where 
on  an  occasion  his  host  observing  his  entire  ab- 
straction played  on  him  a  practical  joke  some- 
what rude  in  its  manner. 

He — or  some  say,  his  courtiers — ordered  a 
servant  to  gather  the  bones  from  the  table  and 
pile  them  beside  the  abstracted  poet,  and  then 
suddenly  called  the  attention  of  the  rest  of  the 
company  to  what  might  appear  the  evidence 
of  the  poet's  excessive  appetite.     "At  least," 


DANTE  AND  BOCCACCIO 


139 


said  Dante,  "it  shows  that  I  am  not  a  Great 
Dog,  or  I  should  have  eaten  the  bones." 

It  is  not  given  to  all  poets  to  know  that 
their  song  has  gone  home  to  the  heart  of  those 
for  whom  they  sang,  and  in  this  Dante  was 
fortunate. 

Of  Shakespeare,  dead  at  Stratford-on-Avon 
in  comparative  comfort,  hardly  a  word  was 
said  for  a  hundred  years;  a  sonnet  by  Ben 
Jonson,  a  few  lines  by  a  lesser  poet;  but  his  name 
and  fame  were  almost  lost,  for  a  century  they 
may  be  said  to  have  been  quite  lost.  Even  now 
men  are  writing  books  to  take  away  his  name 
and  give  his  fame  to  another:  Shakespeare,  of 
whom  Emerson  says  that  he  was  the  Father 
of  German  Literature. 

A  stupid  parson  cut  down  the  sycamore  which 
tradition — one  of  the  few  traditions  attached  to 
Shakespeare,  said  he  planted  in  his  garden — 
cut  it  down  because  people,  then  beginning  to 
recognize  the  Poet,  came  to  see  it  and  trampled 
his  ground — ^his  birthplace  was  left  neglected 
till  an  American  showman  talked  of  purchasing 
it  to  bring  it  bodily  to  America  as  a  part  of  his 
show. 

In  Italy  within  a  hundred  years  chairs  were 
established  in  Universities  for  lectures  on  the 


iHi 


n 


-■ 


I 


/    1 


; . 


I40 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


Study  of  Dante.  In  Italy  a  tree  reputed  to 
have  been  planted  by  Tasso,  though  long  dead 
and  held  up  by  iron  supports,  is  still  honored 
as  Tasso's  Oak — is  known  by  name  as  a  ren- 
dezvous where  on  occasion  people  assemble 
and  orators  make  speeches.  And  of  Dante — 
all  Italy  claims  him  as  its  own  even  though  he 


"sleeps  afar. 
Like  Scipio,  buried  by  the  upbraiding  shore. 


H 


Dante  was  the  inspirer  of  the  great  body  of 
poetry  of  the  last  six  hundred  years  through- 
out the  world.  And,  although  we  cannot  say 
that  without  Dante  there  would  not  have  been 
the  current  of  poetry  which  has  enriched  the 
modern  worid,  we  may  say  that  without  him 
there  might  not  have  been  Petrarch  and  Ari- 
osto;  Chaucer  and  Marlowe,  and  Shakespeare 
and  Milton  and  Keats;  Villon  and  Ronsard; 
Comeille  and  Hugo.  And  we  can  say  with 
assurance  that  because  of  Dante  their  current 
was  deeper  and  broader  and  has  borne  richer 
argosies  for  man. 

From  Boccaccio  and  Petrarch  to  Carducci 
through  all  the  galaxy  of  stars  great  and  small 
that  have  begemmed  the  firmament  of  Italian 
Literature,  and  thence  have  shed  their  benign 


DANTE  AND  BOCCACCIO 


141 


light  upon  the  world  there  is  not  one  since  his 
day  who  has  not  drawn  light  from  Dante's 
beams  and  given  some  reflection  of  his  splendor. 

Giovanni  Boccaccio  is  said  to  have  had  the 
passion  for  letters  aroused  in  his  breast  by  a 
visit  to  Virgil's  tomb  at  Posilipo.  But,  far 
more,  he  received  his  inspiration  from  Dante 
Alighieri.  Indeed,  his  devotion  to  him  whom 
he  took  as  his  Master  was  as  much  his  pride  as 
Dante's  was  in  following  Virgil.  His  letters  to 
Petrarch;  his  eager  insistence  that  his  beloved 
friend  and  fellow  artist  should  love  Dante  as 
he  loved  him  speak  more  eloquently  than  any 
formal  acknowledgment  could  do.  Petrarch, 
the  laurel-crowned,  possibly  influenced  by  the 
adulation  of  his  admirers,  affected  not  to  know 
Dante's  work,  and  had  no  copy  of  the  Comedy 
in  his  Library.  Boccaccio  took  him  to  task  for 
this  and  sent  him  a  copy,  written  out  with  his 
own  hand  and,  thereupon,  Petrarch,  possibly 
to  help  his  friend,  who  was  involved  in  financial 
troubles,  oflFered  to  buy  Boccaccio's  whole 
library  and  to  take  him  in  as  well. 

But  whether  or  not  Petrarch  possessed  a 
copy  of  Dante's  work  he  was  none  the  less  in- 
debted to  Dante  for  his  inspiration.  By  this 
time  Dante's  fame  was  an  inheritance  of  all 


ill 


/ 


y 


^i 


u 


'    J   i 


* 


W'i 


■-..,  ^  •-..>■ 


149 


DANTB  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


i 


Italy.  The  Inquisition  had  burnt  some  of  his 
worky  and  the  people  were  taking  up  his  verses 
as  a  part  of  the  vernacular.  And  Petrarch  could 
never  have  been  so  intimate  with  Boccaccio  his 
most  ardent  admirer  without  becoming  satu- 
rated with  the  spirit  of  the  Master. 

So  every  Italian  Poet  has  found  his  genius 
stirred  to  life  by  the  voice  of  Dante  sounding 
from  his  tomb  through  the  ages  with  com- 
pelling inspiration.  If  this  inspiration  was 
fired  by  the  sight  of  Virgil's  tomb  and  Pe- 
trarch's laurel  it  was  already  prepared  for  the 
torch  by  the  outpouring  of  Dante's  anointing 
oil. 

Books  have  been  written  to  show  the  con- 
tribution that  Dante  has  made  to  the  literature 
of  the  World,  by  showing  through  quotation, 
parallelism,  and  allusion  what  the  renowned 
poets  of  other  nations  have  owed  to  the  poet 
of  poets.  Even  this  volume  of  quotation  and 
reference,  however;  of  allusion  and  parallelism 
and  reflection  falls  far  short  of  showing  the 
debt  that  mankind  owes  to  the  great  leader 
and  master  of  Idealism.  The  Sun  not  only 
gives  light  and  heat  to  those  who  discourse  of  it, 
or  who  consciously  utilize  its  rays,  but  tempers 
and  vivifies  the  whole  body  of  creation.    The 


DANTE  AND  BOCCACCIO 


U3 


•'M^ 


power  and  the  influence  of  Dante  Ahghieri 
have  extended  far  beyond  any  express  recogni- 
tion of  him — even  beyond  any  conscious  knowl- 
edge of  his  imaginative  work:  yet,  we  cannot 
follow  the  current  of  the  literature  of  any  nation 
without  feeling  that  either  consciously  or  un- 
consciously the  reflection  of  his  influence  is 
found  throughout  its  course. 

Not  only  in  Italy  has  Dante's  influence  been 
all  pervasive.  This  might  be  expected.  But 
in  England,  where  we  might  not  be  so  pre- 
pared to  find  it,  we  shall  find  his  influence  not 
less  general.  Chaucer,  the  Father  of  English 
Poetry,  is  full  of  his  reflection,  some  of  it  di- 
rectly from  Dante's  poems;  some  given  at 
second-hand  from  Petrarch  and  Boccaccio.  It 
was  not  until  he  had  visited  Italy  that  he 
struck  the  note  that  has  brought  him  immor- 
tality and  his  inspiration  was  drawn  from 

''quella  fonte  che  spande  di  parlar  si  largo  fiume.** 

Dante's  influence  on  the  whole  current  of 
English  poetry  cannot  be  estimated  save  by 
those  who  know  Dante.  It  speaks  through 
Chaucer,  whose  impress  on  English  Poetry  may 
be  likened  to  Dante's  on  him,  and  who  shows  his 
indebtedness  to  Dante  throughout  the  entire 


M 


II 


144 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


body  of  his  work,  many  of  his  poems  containing 
Dante's  verses;*  and  it  comes  on  down  along  the 
whole  course.  It  is  seen  not  only  in  distinct 
parallelisms  of  figure  and  form;  but  often  in 
the  very  substance  of  the  works  themselves. 

Spenser  adopted  and  adapted  to  his  purpose 
and  time  a  great  part  of  his  moral  from  Dante, 
and  imitates  him  in  many  passages  of  the 
Faerie  Queene.* 

Shakespeare,  like  Moliere,  took  his  own 
wherever  he  found  it  and  had  the  kingly  right 
of  eminent  domain;  but  many  of  those  from 
whom  he  took  his  own  had  already  taken  it 
from  the  great  Master  of  Italian  poetry.  Not 
only  the  names  among  his  greatest  dramas  tes- 
tify their  Italian  origin;  such  for  example  as 
Othello;  The  Merchant  of  Venice,  Two  Gentle- 
men of  Verona;  Romeo  and  Juliet,  etc.;  but  in 
his  poems  the  structure  of  the  verse  shows  the 
Italian  influence — and  this  is  but  another  mode 
of  saying  Dante's  influence,  for  Dante  was  the 

*  For  example,  in  Troilus  and  Cressida;  in  The  Parlement  of 
Fonles;  The  House  of  Fame;  The  Legend  of  Good-Women;  Legend 
of  Dido;  Legend  of  Pemesytra;  The  Knight'8  Tale;  The  Man  of 
LiVi  Tale;  The  Prioress's  Tale;  The  Monk's  Tale;  The  Wife 
of  Bath's  Tale;  The  Merchant's  Tale;  The  Squire's  Tale;  The 
Second  Nun's  Tale;  and  The  Balade  of  Gentlesse.  Cf.  Britain*! 
Tribute  to  Dante  in  Literature  and  Art,  by  Paget  Tojmbcc,  Litt.D.; 
Dante  nel  pensiere  inglese:  A.  Galemberti. 

«  C/.  DanU  in  English  Literature,  P.  Toynbee,  I,  8i-8a. 


'W 


DANTE  AND  BOCCACCIO 


US 


\V 


Father  of  Italian  Literature.  He  invented  the 
Terza  Rima  and  he  was  the  Master  of  the  son- 
net, before  Petrarch  or  Sidney;  or  Shakes- 
peare or  Milton.^ 

Three  centuries  and  more  had  made  a  cer- 
tain diff'erence  in  the  mental  attitude  toward 
the  great  subject  of  Man's  relation  to  his 
Creator,  and  even  more  in  the  expression  of 
this  relation;  yet  comparison  of  the  two  great 
Christian  Epics  must  compel  the  admission 
that  the  great  English  poet  who  wrote  to  jus- 
tify the  ways  of  God  to  man,  found  both  his 
theme  and  his  manner  in  the  majestic  concep- 
tion of  the  great  Italian  who  preceded  him  by 
over  three  hundred  years.  He  could  not  drop 
Lucifer  so  far  that  he  would  not  find  that 
Dante  had  sounded  the  depths;  he  could  not 
soar  so  high  that  he  would  not  find  that  Dante 
had  already  passed  the  shining  height.  Did 
he  attempt  to  justify  the  ways  of  God  to  man  ? 
This  is  the  central  theme  of  the  Divine  Com- 
edy. 

In  the  matter  of  verse  also  Milton,  organ- 
voice  of  England  though  he  was,  testifies  his 
debt  to  his  predecessor.  Even  the  "mighty- 
mouthed  inventor  of  harmonies"  found  none 

>C/.  DanU  in  English  Literature,  P.  Toynbee,  I,  8i-»2. 


K 


)' 


il 


I 


^i 


iM 


146 


9ANTR  AND  HIS  INPLUENCB 


nobler  than  those  which  rolled  from  the  melodi- 
ous organ  of  the  supreme  Florentine. 

Time  and  space  forbid  to  trace  the  long  line 
of  resemblances  and  reflections  of  Dante  in  the 
great  body  of  English  poetry.  It  is  not  too 
much  to  say  that  his  influence  is  wellnigh  uni- 
versal, and  hardly  too  much  to  say  that  with- 
out him  there  might  never  have  been  so  rich 
and  broad  a  current  of  poetry  in  our  tongue.* 

As  illustrations  of  this  marked  influence  may 
be  cited  Milton's  great  picture  of  Satan  in 
"Paradise  Lost"  with  Dante's  earlier  picture 
in  the  XXXIVth  Canto  of  the  Inferno.  Not 
Cimabue  had  a  greater  influence  on  Giotto,  nor 
Giotto  on  his  pupils,  than  Dante  had  on  this 
puritan-scholar-poet  of  England.  Each  poured 
his  own  genius  into  his  art  and  got  therefrom 
his  colors  and  his  form;  but  Milton  got  his 
spirit  from  his  forerunner  and  master. 

Milton  made  no  scruple  of  following  Dante 
and  declares  himself  an  eager  reader  of  Dante 
and  Petrarch.*    Milton  was,  says  Toynbee,  "  an 


'  Without  undertaking  to  give  the  parallelisms,  I  will  refer  the 
•tudent  to  the  notes  in  Gary's,  in  Norton's  and  in  Longfellow's 
translations  of  the  Divine  Comedy,  and  to  A.  Galemberti's  DanU 
ml  pensuff  inglese. 

*  Letter  to  Benedetto  Buonmattai  from  Florence,  September 
10,  1^38,  dted  D^nU  mi  English  LiUraiure,  vol.  I,  p.  124;  P. 
Toynbee. 


DANTE  AND  BOCCACCIO 


147 


accomplished  Italian  Scholar  as  is  attested  by 
his  Italian  poems  (five  sonnets  and  a  canzone, 
written  probably  at  Bologna  in  1639)  and  he 
was  widely  read  in  Italian  literature.  Dante's 
works  he  had  studied  closely  as  is  evident  from 
the  many  references  to  the  Divina  Commedia 
as  well  as  to  the  de  Monarchia  in  his  f prose- 
works  and  Commonplace  Book,  while  Dante's 
influence  is  perceptible  not  only  in  every  book 
of  Paradise  Lost,  but  also  in  Lycidas  and  other 
of  his  lyrical  poems."  ^ 

Milton's  Commonplace  Book,  indeed,  has 
numerous  references  to  Dante. 

St.  Peter's  apostrophe  in  Lycidas  is  certainly 
reminiscent  of  that  in  Dante's  Paradiso,  Canto 
XXVII,  while  the  fine  lines: 


i( 


The  hungry  sheep  look  up  and  are  not  fed, 

But  swoln  with  wind  and  the  rank  mist  they  drew 

Rot  inwardly  and  foul  contagion  spread." 


are  taken  directly  from  the  Paradiso: 


« 


Le  pecorelle  che  non  sanno 

Toman  dal  pasco  pasciuti  di  vento." 


The  line  regarding  the  spread  of  contagion  is 
from  Dante's  Vllth  Epistle. 

•  P.  Toynbee,  DanU  in  English  Literature^  vol.  I,  p.  lao. 


I4S 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


The  list  of  parallelisms  and  indeed  adapta- 
tions between  Milton  and  him  whom  in  view 
of  his  constant  reflection  we  may  call  his  Master 
is  too  extensive  to  be  quoted,  but  it  is  hardly 
too  much  to  say  that  many  of  the  finest  lines 
in  the  great  English  Epic  are  consciously  remi- 
niscent of  lines  in  its  great  Italian  predecessor.* 

Shakespeare's   "sicklied  o'er  with  the   pale 

cast  of  thought"  is  from  Virgil's  admonition  to 

Dante  in  Purgatory,  Canto  V,  where  he  bids 

him, 

**Be  as  a  tower  that,  firmly  set. 
Shakes  not  its  top  for  any  blast  that  blows; 
He  in  whose  bosom  thought  on  thought  shoot  out 
Still  of  his  aim  is  wide  in  that  the  one 
Sicklies  and  wastes  to  naught  the  other's  strength.' 


» 


Can  one  familiar  with  Dante  read  Milton's 
magnificent  picture  of  Lucifer  and  not  feel  the 
influence  of  Dante's  picture — ^not  feel  that  he 
has  but  redrawn  the  latter's  mighty  figure,  with 
his  vast  wings  like  sails  ?  Nor  is  this  any  dero- 
gation from  Milton's  genius,  as  it  is  none  from 
Shakespeare's  that  he  seized  upon  and  turned 
to  his  own  use  what  Dante  had  left.  Great 
poets  may  take  their  own,  Hke  Moliere,  wherever 

^  For  list  of  parallel  passages  in  Paradise  Lost  and  the  Divine 
Comedy,  cf.  Dante  in  English  Literature,  vol.  I,  p.  127,  and  t^., 
587;  P.  Toynbcc. 


DANTE  AND  BOCCACCIO 


149 


they  find  it  as  by  a  sort  of  right  of  eminent 
domain,  and  having  taken  the  precious  ore 
they  fashion  it  in  their  own  way  for  the  delight 
and  benefit  of  the  world. 

If  it  should  be  asked  how,  even  if  Milton 
knew  Dante;  Shakespeare  could  have  known 
him  or  of  him,  the  answer  would  be:  How  could 
he  who  knew  "little  Latin  and  less  Greek" 
know  all  the  rest  that,  without  question,  he 
did  know.^  How  did  he  come  to  know  what 
he  has  set  forth  in  Antony  and  Cleopatra,  in 
Julius  Caesar,  in  Othello,  in  his  historical  plays, 
English  and  Roman,  which  have  thrown  a  light 
on  the  dry  annals  of  the  times  which  they  por- 
tray that  has  guided  succeeding  generations 
more  than  have  the  dim  mile-posts  of  the  an- 
nalists. The  Mermaid  Tavern  and  those  other 
resorts  better  or  worse  in  which  the  Warwick- 
shire playwright  passed  his  spare  time  with 
Kit  Marlowe  and  Ben  Jonson  and  the  rest  of 
their  company  were  exchanges  in  which  the 
wit  and  the  poetry  of  that  time  passed  current. 
On  those  tavern-tables  rang  for  its  testing-out 
all  the  metal  that  was  offered  in  that  great  mart 
opened  for  the  intellectual  enrichment  of  that 
"spacious  time."  There  the  beakers  were 
poured  full  of  the  juice  of  life,  and  whatever 


ISO 


BASTE  AND  HIS  INFLUBNCB 


I 


1 


was  true  metal  Shakespeare  seized  upon,  swept 
it  through  the  mint  of  his  genius,  stamped  it 
with  his  royal  mark,  and  passed  it  on  for  the 
intellectual  commerce  of  the  world. 

Whether  it  was  through  Petrarch,  or  Boc- 
caccio, or  other  heliograph  reflection,  it  is  un- 
doubtedly a  fact  that  as  Shakespeare  chose  the 
Montagues  and  Capulets  from  Dante's  line  as 
symbols  of  opposing  houses  that  plagued  the 
course  of  Love;  so  from  Dante  he  got  rays  of 
the  pure  light  of  a  genius  as  noble  as  his  own 
and  in  its  own  way  as  dramatic  in  its  form  as 
that  which  has  become  the  star  of  first  magni- 
tude in  all  the  Literature  of  the  Anglo-Saxon 
Race. 

Though  Shakespeare  may  appear  to  us,  who 
speak  only  English,  to  have  a  broader  spread  of 
pinion^ — to  lead  his  victorious  thought  with 
more  triumphant  sweep  beyond  the  utmost 
bounds  of  Human  speculation — though  Milton 
may,  to  English  ears,  appear  to  sing  with  a 
nobler  measure  and  in  a  more  melodious  strain, 
pray  remember,  that  Dante  preceded  them 
by  something  like  three  hundred  years  and 
that  as  his  leaders,  beside  the  great  Greeks 
and  Latin  Poets  (whom  they  had  likewise)  he 
had  only  Guittone  Guinizelli  and  the  Proven9al 


DANTE  AND  BOCCACCIO 


iSx 


Rimatori,  while  Shakespeare  and  Milton  had 
Chaucer  and  Spenser  and  above  all  Dance 
himself.  He  walked  alone  so  far  as  inspiring 
human  fellowship  was  concerned.  Those  about 
him  were  all  critical  and  many  held  that  he  was 
wasting  his  recognized  genius  writing  in  the 
vulgar  tongue  and  of  the  dead  and  gone  in- 
stead of  in  the  scholarly  and  classic  language,  of 
the  living.  Shakespeare,  on  the  other  hand, 
had  as  shining  a  company  of  comrades  of  genius 
as  ever  poured  about  a  man  the  electric  stimulus 
of  intellectual  fellowship. 


'I 


i! 


f 


THE  DIVINE  COMEDY 


153 


THE  DIVINE  COMEDY 


The  Poem  begins: 


''Nel  mezzo  del  cammin  di  nostra  vita 
Mi  ritrovai  per  una  selva  oscura 
Che  la  diritta  via  era  smarrita." 

"Midway  of  Life's  journey  I  again 
Found  myself  in  a  dim  forest; 
For  the  right  road  was  lost." 


This  the  commentators  have  universally  and 

doubtless  rightly  interpreted  to  mean  that  it 

was  midway  of  the  threescore  years  and  ten  of 

man's  allotted  span  of  life  that  Dante  had  his 

vision  and  began  his  great  work.     The  selva 

oscura,   whose   memory  to  the    Poet  was,  he 

avers,  wellnigh  as  bitter  as  Death,  they  take  to 

signify  the  jungle  of  worldly  pleasure  in  which  he 

had  for  a  time  lost  himself.    The  lofty  mountain 

whose  shoulders,  touched  by  the  beams  of  the 

rising  sun,  which  he  tries  to  gain,  is  the  Steep 

of  Virtue.    And  the  three  savage  beasts:  the 

152 


nimble  Leopard  of  the  mottled  skin,  that  faces 
him  down  and  forces  him  back;  the  fierce  Lion 
and  the  meagre,  belly-pinched  wolf  that  for  all 
her  ravine  grew  ever  hungrier,  they  interpret 
generally  to  be  symbolical  of  sensual  Pleasure, 
Violence,  and  Avarice. 

Just  as  he  gives  himself  up  for  lost,  the  Poet 
descries  a  shape  and  addresses  it  for  succor  not 
knowing  if  it  were  a  shade  or  man.  Virgil 
declares  himself;  accepts  his  homage  to  him  as 
his  master  and  very  author  and  later  explains 
how  Beatrice,  whom  he  pictures  with  a  touch: 

Lucevan  gli  occhi  suoi  piu  che  la  stella: — 

— how  Beatrice,  sent  by  Lucia,  who  in  turn 
had  been  sent  by  the  Gentle  Lady  up  in  Heaven, 
had  come  from  Rachel's  side  to  despatch  him 
to  his  aid. 

The  description  of  the  evening  hour  that 
looses  animals  from  their  daily  toil.  Gray  re- 
flects in  the  opening  of  his  Elegy,  as  he  follows 
completely  in  his  picture  another  and  even 
more  beautiful  passage,  from  the  poet's  refer- 
ence farther  on  in  his  journey  to  the  Vesper- 
bell  that  sounds  as  though  it  mourned  the  ex- 
piring day. 

The  lost  poet,  inspired  with  new  courage  by 


154 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


i 


his  master's  rebuke  of  his  cowardice  and  by  his 
story  of  the  pity  for  him  of  the  three  Blessed 
Ladies,  though  he  had  reminded  his  Leader 
that  he  was  neither  iEneas  nor  Paul,  now  rears 
his  head  like  the  little  flowers  chilled  by  the 
night,  at  the  warming  touch  of  the  sun,  and 
prepares  to  follow  his  guide  through  the  alto 
passo. 

Dante  following  his  guide  now  moves  down 
by  "a  wild  and  arduous  way"  to  where  he  dis- 
covers in  the  gloom  above  a  door  an  inscrip- 
tion which  appalls  him  and  which  at  his  re- 
quest his  master  explains  to  him  though  in  only 
a  general  way.    It  runs : 

••Pcr  me  si  va  nella  dtta  dolente; 
Per  me  si  va  nell'  eterno  dolore; 
Per  me  si  va  tra  la  perduta  gente. 
Giustizia  mosse  il  mio  alto  fattore, 
Fecemi  la  divina  potestate 
La  somma  sapienza  e  il  primo  amore. 
Dinanzi  a  me  non  fur  cose  create, 
Se  non  eteme  ed  io  eterno  duro; 
Lasciate  ogni  speranza  voi  ch*  entrate!** 

**Through  me  leads  into  the  dolorous  dty 
Through  me  leads  into  eternal  woe; 
Through  me  one  goes  among  the  damned. 
Justice  moved  my  lofty  creator, 
Created  me  the  Divine  Power; 


THE  DIVINE  COMEDY 


IS5 


Supreme  Wisdom  and  Primal  Love. 
Before  me  were  no  things  created 
Save  the  eternal  and  eternal  I  endure. 
All  hope  abandon  ye  who  enter." 

This,  explains  Virgil  briefly,  is  where  fear 
must  be  left  behind  and  cowardice  must  die; 
for  here  they  have  come  to  the  place  of  which 
he  has  told  him  where  he  shall  see  those  woful 
ones  who  have  lost  the  good  of  Intellect.  He 
then  leads  him  in  and  "into  the  secret  things." 
Here  in  the  starless  murk  the  tumult  of  lamen- 
tations and  execrations;  strange  tongues  and 
sounds  of  woe  and  rage  with  noise  of  hands  as 
of  sand  driven  by  the  whirlwind,  wring  tears 
from  Dante  and  bind  his  head  with  horror.  He 
asks  who  these  may  be  and  learns  that,  "these 
are  the  wretched  souls  of  those  who  Hved  with- 
out infamy  or  praise  and  mingled  with  them 
are  those  caitiff  angels  who,  though  not  reb- 
els, yet  were  not  true  to  God,  but  stood  only 
for  themselves.  Hopeless  of  Death  they  envy 
every  other  lot.  The  world  lets  no  fame  of 
them  survive;  Pity  and  Justice  despise  them. 
Let  us  not  talk  of  them;  but  look  and  pass  on." 

Next  came  a  whirling  standard  followed  by 
a  rushing  host,  so  innumerable  that  he  never 
should   have  thought   Death  had   undone  so 


\4  t 


Ml 


P 


iS6 


DiiiVrE  AND  ms  INFLUENCE 


many.    And    presently    when    he   had    recog- 
nized some,  he  recognized  the  shade  of  him: 

"Che  fece  per  viltate  il  gran  rifiuto/* 


<« 


Who  made  through  cowardice  the  great  refusal." 


This  great  Refuser  the  Commentators  have 
been  busy  with  ever  since.  The  early  Com- 
mentators considered  him  to  beCelestine  V,  "an 
old  man  whom  Boniface  VIII  deluded  into  re- 
signing after  a  five-months'  reign  and  then  im- 
prisoned till  his  death."  Some  later  Commen- 
tators hold  him  to  have  been  Pontius  Pilate; 
while  yet  others— among  them  Dante  Gabriel 
Rossetti — hold  him  to  have  been  that  young 
man  who  had  kept  all  the  Law  from  his  youth 
up,  yet  when  told  by  Jesus  that  to  inherit 
Eternal  Life  he  must  sell  what  he  had  and  give 
to  the  poor  and  follow  Him,  turned  away  sorrow- 
ful and  was  heard  of  no  more. 

From  this  point  they  pass  on  to  where  in 
the  dim  light  a  crowd  await  on  the  sad  shore 
of  Acheron  Charon,  "the  demon  with  eyes  of 
glowing  coal." 

Such  is  the  beginning  of  the  most  wonderful 
poem  of  modern  times. 
But  although  Dante  has  laid  the  world  under 


THE  DIVINE  COMEDY 


XS7 


tribute  to  his  genius,  it  is  Italy  especially  that 
owes  him  and  will  owe  him  the  greatest  debt. 
The  change  in  political  relations  during  the 
Middle  Ages  was  gradually  bringing  about  a 
National  Consciousness  among  the  peoples  of 
the  several  Countries  which  in  the  final  arrange- 
ment appeared  under  the  names  by  which  they 
are  known  to-day.  But  Italy  was  so  divided 
internally  that  it  was  long  before  she  came  to 
wear  her  own  name  as  the  symbol  and  proof  of 
Unity.  And  that  she  finally  did  so  was  due 
considerably  to  Dante's  influence  through  his 
own  work  and  that  of  his  followers. 

If  we  have  praised  the  Vita  Nuova,  magical 
and  mystical  in  its  spiritual  suggestion  with  its 
love-poems  set  like  jewels  to  mark  the  succes- 
sive phases  of  Dante's  consecrated  devotion; 
and  if  we  have  attempted  some  comment  on  his 
curious  and  learned  philosophical  and  political 
essays  on  the  Government  of  the  world  tem- 
poral and  spiritual  in  his  time,  what  shall  we 
say  of  the  Commedia:  the  great  climax  of  his 
genius;  that  amazing  disquisition,  allegory, 
poem,  vision — what  you  will — which  startled 
his  Age;  aroused  the  wonder  of  those  that 
followed,  and  still  after  six  hundred  years 
amazes,  thrills  and  charms  the  lover  of  Poetry 


lii 


Ml 


H 


V 


tSS 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


HI 


i 


and  excites  the  amazement  of  the  speculative 
Man  of  Letters  throughout  the  world  ?  About 
all  one  can  do  is  to  apostrophize  it  and  the 
Genius  that  conceived  and  executed  it  in  its 
mighty  scope  and  wonderful  detail.  Scholar- 
ship has  lavished  on  it  all  the  erudition  of  over 
five  hundred  years  without  wholly  sounding 
its  depths;  Piety  loses  itself  in  its  labyrinthine 
mazes  of  devotion;  Philosophy  wearies  in  un- 
ravelling the  infinite  wealth  of  its  symbolism. 

If  we  attempt  its  praise  in  any  detail  of  anal- 
ysis we  are  like  one  who  undertakes  to  point 
out  the  beauty  of  some  capital  or  other  small 
item  in  some  vast  Cathedral,  itself  a  miracle 
of  architectural  inspiration  and  genius  in  which 
IS  taking  place  some  great  ceremony  of  devo- 
tion with  all  the  accompaniments  of  enthralling 
music  and  devout  ceremonial,  while  all  about 
are  the  enchantment  of  trees  and  flowers  and 
over  all  the  arching  sky.  Apparelled  in  beauty 
and  packed  with  meaning,  often  too  mystical 
to  meet  the  spirit  even  of  devotees,  it  continues 
and  will  continue  shining  through  the  ages, 
with  its  supernal  beauty  and  its  inner  meaning 
as  mysterious  as  the  soul  itself. 

"The  Divina  Commedia,"  says  Dean  Church 
in  his  memorable  essay  on  Dante,  "is  one  of 


THE  DIVINE  COMEDY 


IS9 


the  landmarks  of  history.  More  than  a  magnif- 
icent poem,  more  than  the  beginning  of  a  lan- 
guage and  the  opening  of  a  national  literature, 
more  than  the  inspirer  of  art,  and  the  glory  of 
a  great  people,  it  is  one  of  those  rare  and  solemn 
monuments  of  the  mind's  power,  which  mea- 
sure and  test  what  it  can  reach  to,  which  rise  up 
inefFaceably  and  forever  as  time  goes  on,  mark- 
ing out  its  advance  by  grander  divisions  than  its 
centuries,  and  adopted  as  epochs  by  the  con- 
sent of  all  who  come  after.  It  stands  with  the 
Iliad  and  Shakespeare  Plays,  with  the  writings  of 
Aristotle  and  Plato,  with  the  Novum  Organum 
and  the  Principia,  with  Justinian's  Code,  with 
the  Parthenon  and  St.  Peter's.  It  is  the  first 
Christian  poem;  and  it  opens  European  Litera- 
ture, as  the  Iliad  did  that  of  Greece  and  Rome. 
And  like  the  Iliad,  it  has  never  become  out  of 
date;  it  accompanies  in  undiminished  freshness 
the  literature  which  it  began.** 

It  is  the  gift  of  the  Poet  that  he  knows  his 
mission;  he  senses  the  rare  air  which  his  pinions 
cleave.    This  gift  was  Dante's  in  full  measure. 

As  the  old  prophets  delivered  the  oracles 
with,  "Thus  saith  the  Lord,"  so  he  speaks  as 
the  Prophet  and  Seer  with  the  voice  of  authority 
and  power.     His  enemies  and  those  of  Truth 


i  i 


I 


11 


:  » 


i6o 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCB 


^i' 


Si 


are  the  same  and  he  metes  out  Judgment  to 
them  with  the  authority  of  a  final  judge.  It  is 
not  a  personal  revenge-^not  "a  wild  kind  of 
justice"  that  he  measures  out — but  actual  jus- 
tice according  to  a  divine  Law  that  he  as  the 
Judge  knows,  to  which  he  bows  and  which  he 
executes  with  profound  conviction  of  its  right- 
eousness. This  conviction  of  the  righteousness 
of  the  Divine  Order  was  not  the  least  precious 
part  of  the  great  message  that  he  delivered  to 
the  Italian  People  and  through  them  to  the 
Ages.  And  where  he  speaks  as  a  poet  none  in 
Italy  questions  his  authority.  The  successor 
of  Boniface  shreds  out  the  political  from  the 
poetic  and  bows  with  the  rest  of  Italy  and 
of  the  Literary  World  to  honor  the  greatest 
poet. 

The  Comedy,  indeed,  is  the  inexhaustible 
quarry  from  which  since  that  time  other  poets 
in  all  lands  have  cut  material— now  for  their 
deepest  foundations  and  now  for  their  highest 
embellishments. 

We  all  recognize  the  great  debt  that  we  owe 
to  Italy's  Art— to  her  painting  and  sculpture 
and  architecture  of  the  time  of  her  great  mas- 
ters when  they  were  performing  their  miracles 
of  Grace  and  Beauty.     But  how  little  do  we 


THE  DIVINE  COMEDY 


i6i 


reflect  on  the  vast  debt  that  we  owe  to  Italian 
thought,  the  greatest  endowment  of  all ! 

The  fame  of  Dante  spread  so  rapidly  that 
even  in  his  bello  ovile  whence^he  was  chased,  the 
Florentines  were  fain  ere  long  to  bow  their  pride 
befor-  the  popular  and  final  verdict.  They 
voted  a  pension  to  Dante's  daughter,  as  a  tardy 
amend,  and  lectures  on  the  great  Florentine's 
work  were  started  by  his  awakened  fellow 
citizens — awakened  too  late  to  bring  solace  to 
his  heart.  It  was  while  delivering  lectures  on 
him  that  Boccaccio  was  seized  with  the  illness 
from  which  he  never  recovered. 

Carducci  tells  us  that  according  to  some  of 
the  most  authoritative  Dantisti,  the  number  of 
Dante  codici,  that  is,  copies  of  his  comedy, 
exceed  700 — or  to  be  completely  accurate  the 
number  of  those  known  exceed  600.  Yet,  there 
is  not  known  to  survive  a  single  trace  of  Dante's 
own  hand  in  one. 

Since  the  art  of  printing  came  into  being 
more  than  400  editions  have  been  published 
and  his  work  has  been  translated  into  thirty- 
five  languages.  The  Italians  claim  for  it  a 
greater  number  of  editions  than  for  any  other 
book  except  the  Bible. 
It  was  not  called  the  "Divine  Comedy,"  un- 


l| 


i62  BANTE  AND  HIS  INPLUBNCB 


n  1 


til  It  was  thus  termed  in  the  edition  of  Dolce  di 
Venezia,  issued  in  1555.  Landino,  however, 
had  in  1481,  called  the  poet  "the  Divine." 

Dante  had  no  question  as  to  the  greatness 
of  his  poem.  In  the  Paradiso  he  calls  it  "the 
consecrated  poem"^  and  again  "the  sacred 
poem.*** 

In  the  first  twelve  lines  of  the  XXVth  Canto 
of  the  Paradiso  he  frankly  gives  his  judgment 
on  his  work: 

"Se  mai  continga  che  fl  poema  sacro, 
al  quale  ha  posto  mano  e  cielo  e  tern, 
81  che  m'ha  fatto  per  piU  anni  macro, 

Vinca  la  cnidelti,  che  fuor  mi  scrra 
del  bello  ovile,  dov'io  dormi'  agnello 
nimico  ai  lupi,  che  gli  danno  guerra; 

Con  altra  voce  omai,  con  altro  vello 

ritorner6  poeta,  ed  in  sul  fonte 

del  mio  battesmo  prender6  il  cappello; 

Pero  chd  nella  fede,  che  fa  conte 
Fanime  a  Dio,  quiv'  entra'io,  e  poi 
Pietro  per  lei  d  mi  gird  la  fronte." 


r 


''If  e'er  the  sacred  poem,  that  hath  made 
Both  Heaven  and  earth  copartners  in  its  toil. 
And  with  lean  abstinence,  through  many  a  year, 

^  Paradiio,  Canto  XXIII,  62.  •  Paradiso,  XXV,  13-19. 


V 


THE  DIVINB  COMEDY 


163 


Faded  my  brow,  be  destined  to  prevail 
Over  the  cruelty,  which  bars  me  forth 
Of  the  fair  sheep-fold,  where,  a  sleeping  lamb. 
The  wolves  set  on  and  fain  had  worried  me; 
With  other  voice,  and  fleece  of  other  grain, 
I  shall  forthwith  return;  and,  standing  up 
At  my  baptismal  font,  shall  claim  the  wreath 
Due  to  the  poet's  temples:  for  I  there 
First  enter'd  on  the  faith,  which  maketh  souls 
Acceptable  to  God:  and,  for  its  sake, 
Peter  had  then  circled  my  forehead  thus." 

— Cary, 

Notwithstanding  the  great  influence  that 
Dante  and  his  followers  exerted  on  English 
Poets  and  English  Literature,  English  scholar- 
ship was  influenced  by  him  yet  more  in  an  in- 
direct than  a  direct  manner.  But  few  editions 
out  of  many  scores  published  in  Italy  were 
brought  into  England  and  it  was  not  until 
toward  the  middle  or  possibly  the  end  of  the 
Eighteenth  Century,  nearly  five  hundred  years 
after  Dante's  death,  that  any  one  attempted 
a  translation  of  his  immortal  work  into  Eng- 
lish. A  number  of  copies  of  editions  of  Dante's 
works — four  or  five — appear  during  successive 
generations  in  the  Oxford  Catalogues,  which 
Institution  might  appear  somewhat  particu- 
larly interested  in  Dante  as  Serravalle  in  a 
commentary  on  him  a  hundred  years  after  his 


! 


x64 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


THE  DIVINE  COMEDY 


II' 


\i 


'"] 


f^ 


death,  states  incidentally,  that  he  had  studied 
at  Oxford.  On  this  point,  however,  there  is 
little  evidence. 

About  the  middle  of  the  Eighteenth  Century, 
William  Hudgin,  a  fellow  of  Magdalen,  pub- 
lished in  the  British  Magazine  a  translation  of 
the  paraphrase  of  the  Lord's  Prayer  from  the 
XXth  Canto  of  the  Purgatorio,  and  at  his  death 
in  1761,  left  a  translation  of  the  Divina  Com- 
media  with  a  fund  to  publish  it.  His  executors, 
however,  failed  to  carry  out  his  instructions 
and  forty  years  later  the  poem  was  published 
in  translation  by  Henry  Boyd  of  Dublin  Uni- 
versity. 

That  Dante  should  have  been  reflected  by 
so  many  poets  is  not  to  be  wondered  at.  The 
original  thoughts  of  the  Human  Mind  are  much 
more  limited  than  is  usually  supposed — Human 
Nature  is  the  same  everywhere;  the  passions  of 
the  Human  heart  are  the  same;  Nature  with  its 
changing  seasons  is  the  same.  Even  its  variant 
moods  are  controlled  by  the  seasons;  and  how- 
ever irregular  are  recurrent.  And  Dante  has 
covered  so  vast  a  field  of  thought  and  with 
such  masterly  power  that  it  would  be  diflScult 
to  sing  of  Nature  or  of  Humanity  without  dis- 
closing traces  of  his  far-reaching  influence. 


i6s 


Byron  himself  is  always  following  in  Dante's 
steps  and,  like  Shelley,  takes  pride  in  proclaim- 
ing him  the  Master,  and  at  times,  even  if  but 
inferentially,  his  Master.  He  has  this  in  com- 
mon with  Dante  that  he  was  a  master  of 
Verse  and  of  Melody.  He  introduced  the 
Terza  Rima  in  English  Verse,  and  his  rendering 
of  perhaps  the  most  exquisite  scene  in  the 
Divine  Comedy  and  possibly  in  all  poetry, 
though  certainly  far  inferior  to  the  original, 
has  not  been  surpassed  by  any  translator. 

Byron  writes,  "Shelley  always  says  that 
reading  Dante  is  unfavorable  to  writing,  from 
its  superiority  to  all  possible  compositions, 
Whether  he  be  the  first  poet  or  not,  he  is  cer- 
tainly the  most  untranslatable  of  all  poets. 
You  may  give  the  meaning;  but  the  charm, 
the  simplicity,  the  classical  simplicity  is  lost. 
You  might  as  well  clothe  a  statue  as  attempt 
to  translate  Dante.  He  is  better,  as  an  Italian 
said:  'nudo  che  vestito.'" 

Shelley  translated  or  adapted  a  number  of 
Dante's  poems  and  in  A  Defense  of  Poetry 
gives  an  appreciation  of  Dante.  He  says: 
"Dante's  Vita  Nuova  is  an  inexhaustible  foun- 
tain of  purity,  of  sentiment  and  language;  His 
apotheosis  of  Beatrice  in  Paradise  ...  is  the 


il 


I  11! 


I 


I 


i66 


BANTB  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


most  glorious  imagination  of  modern  Poetry." 
He  ranks  the  Purgatorio  above  the  Inferno 
and  the  Paradiso  above  the  Purgatorio.  He 
excepts  only  the  two  famous  Ugolino  and  Fran- 
cesca  scenes  in  the  Inferno.^ 

Shelley  in  The  Triumph  of  Life  refers  to  the 
rhyme  of: 

''Him  who  from  the  lowest  depths  of  Hell 
Through  every  Paradise  and  through  all  Glory 
Love  led  serene,  and  who  returned  to  tell 
The  words  of  hate  and  awe;  the  wondrous  story 
How  all  things  are  transfigured  except  Love.' 


» 


Coming  down  to  the  nineteenth  century  we 
find  Knowledge  of  Dante  in  England  increas- 
ing. In  that  year  Charles  Dunster,  in  his  an- 
notations on  Milton's  Paradise  Lost,  points  out 
the  parallels  between  Dante  and  Milton.* 

But  the  important  happening  in  England 
touching  Dante  in  the  early  part  of  the  nine- 
teenth century  was  the  publication  of  H.  F. 
Cary's  translation  of  the  Divine  Comedy^ — be- 
ginning with  the  Inferno  published  in  1805, 
and  ending  with  the  publication  of  the  complete 

^  Set  0%  tJu  DivU  mid  Dmh» 

«S€C  H.  J.  Todds'  Edition  of  Milton't  Poetical  Works,  1801, 
in  which  he  gives  a  lengthy  list  of  Parallels  between  Dante  and 
Milton.  A  little  later  he  did  the  same  service  by  pointing  out 
the  parallels  between  Spenser  and  Dante.  The  Divina  Com- 
media,  translated  by  Henry  Boyd,  was  printed  in  England  in  1802. 


THE  DIVINE  COMEDY 


167 


translation,  at  the  translator's  own  expense,  in 
18 14.  Still,  it  required  a  cordial  review  by 
Coleridge  to  bring  the  work  into  note. 

The  Literati  were  now  finding  the  rich  pas- 
turage on  which  the  Poets  had  so  long  been 
browsing.  Wordsworth,  who  owed  much  to 
Dante,  including  the  fundamental  theory  of 
presenting  his  pictures  in  simple  speech  as  well 
as  that  equally  fundamental  plan  of  setting 
into  his  longer  poems  his  exquisite  illustrations 
from  nature,  declared  that  "the  poetry  of 
Dante  and  Michael  Angelo  proves  that  if  there 
be  little  majesty  and  strength  in  Italian  verse, 
the  fault  is  in  the  authors  and  not  in  the 
tongue."^  But  not  only  Byron,  Shelley  and 
Wordsworth  show  the  influence  of  Dante  on 
their  work.  Coleridge,  Leigh  Hunt,  Keats, 
Tennyson,  Browning  —  not  to  mention  the 
poets  of  lesser  flight — all  frankly  own  or  show 
their  vast  debt  to  the  Poet  of  Poets. 

Keats  took  Cary's  translation  of  the  Divine 
Comedy  as  his  only  travelling  companion  in  a 
visit  to  Scotland  in  181 8. 

The  essayists  likewise  have  acknowledged, 
however  inferentially,  the  vast  influence  of 
Dante  on  English  Literature. 

>  Letter  to  G.  Beaumont,  October  17,  1805. 


^  m 


1i 


i68 


DANTB  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


Coleridge  in  a  leaure  on  the  Troubadours  in 
London,  February  3,  1818,  refers  to  the  debt 
that  the  English  poets  owe  Dante  and  in  a  lec- 
ture on  Rabelais,  February  24,  he  places  him 
with  Shakespeare  and  Cervantes  among  the 
creative  minds  of  the  world.  Among  his  lec- 
tures he  delivered  one  on  Dante,  February  27. 

Coleridge  says  of  the  canzone: 

*'Tre  donne  intomo  al  cuor  mi  son  venute,** 

that  he  was  beginning  to  understand  it  after 
an  interval  of  fourteen  years  "during  which  no 
year  passed  in  which  I  did  not  reperuse,  I 
might  say,  construe,  parse  and  spell  it,  twelve 
times  at  least— such  a  fascination  had  it,  in 
spite  of  its  obscurity.  It  affords  a  good  in- 
stance, by  the  by,  of  that  soul  of  universal 
significance  in  a  true  poet's  composition  in 
addition  to  the  specific  meaning." 

Of  all  the  translations  of  Dante  the  first  one: 
that  of  Reverend  Henry  Francis  Cary,  appears 
still  to  possess  a  quality  which  none  of  its  suc- 
cessors shows,  as  Chapman's  Homer,  made 
immortal  by  Keats,  possesses  it  in  even  a 
greater  degree. 

Coleridge  in  writing  to  Cary  says  that,  "in 
the  severity  and  learned  simplicity  of  the  dic- 
tion, and  in  the  peculiar  character  of  the  Blank 


\^ 


THE  DIVINE  COMEDY 


169 


Verse,  it  has  transcended  what  I  should  have 
thought  possible  without  the  Terza  Rima.  In 
itself,  the  metre  is,  compared  with  any  English 
poem  of  one-quarter  the  length,  the  most  varied 
and  harmonious  to  my  ear  of  any  since  Milton, 
and  yet  the  effect  is  so  Dantesque  that  to  those 
who  should  compare  it  only  with  other  English 
poems  it  would,  I  doubt  not,  have  the  same 
effect  as  the  Terza  Rima  has  compared  with 
other  Italian  metres." 

In  another  letter  he  says:  "What  I  express 
concerning  your  translation,  I  do  not  say  lightly 
or  without  examination  ...  I  still  affirm  that, 
to  my  ear  and  to  my  judgment,  both  your 
metre  and  your  rhythm  have  in  far  greater 
degree  than  I  know  an  instance  of,  the  variety 
of  Milton  without  the  mere  Miltonisms,  that 
.  .  .  the  verse  has  variety  without  any  loss 
of  contiguity,  and  that  this  is  the  excellence  of 
the  work  considered  as  a  translation  of  Dante — 
that  it  gives  the  reader  a  similar  feeling  of 
wandering  and  wandering,  onward  and  onward. 
Of  the  diction,  I  can  only  say  that  it  is  Dan- 
tesque, even  in  that  in  which  the  Florentine 
must  be  preferred  to  our  English  giant — ^namely, 
that  it  is  not  only  pure  language,  but  pure 
English. 

From  now  on  the  long-continued  general  in- 


^!l! 


170 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


THE  DIVINE  COMEDY 


171 


.} 


•ii 


>'  (' 


difference  to  Dante  among  the  British  disap- 
peared  and  the  best  thought  of  England  was 
given  to  the  study  of  his  work  in  full  apprecia- 
tion of  its  richness,  if  not  yet  of  its  influence 
on  English  Literature. 

First  among  the  writers  of  prose  of  acknowl- 
edged   rank   came   Coleridge  and  then,  with* 
equal  authority,  after  an  interval,  Macaulay, 
Carlyle  and  Ruskin  took  up  the  theme.     Each 
treated  it  in  his  own  way;  each  became  an  eager 
student  and  in  certain  respects  a  disciple  of 
the  Master;  and  of  each  it  may  be  said  that  his 
name  and  fame  gained  lustre  from  his  associa- 
tion with  this   august  subject.    It  was  Ma- 
caulay's  essay  on  Milton  that  brought  to  the 
British  Public  the  recognition  that  a  new  star 
had  arisen  on  the  literary  horizon,  and  it  was 
his  admirable  comparative  study  of  Milton  and 
Dante  that  gave  to  that  remarkable  essay  of  a 
young  man  the  laurel  crown. 

Macaulay  substantially  opened  his  career 
with  the  study  of  Dante;  he  closed  it  when  he 
was  among  the  most  widely  read  and  cele- 
brated writers  in  the  world  with  an  apprecia- 
tion of  his  work  second  not  even  to  that  of 
Mazzini  himself.  He  had  loved  and  conned 
it  as  Dante  said  he  had  loved  and  conned  Vir- 


gil's. He  awards  the  great  Tuscan  the  palm 
over  Miiton  and  putting  Shakespeare  aside  de- 
clares that  he  "runs  neck  and  neck  with 
Homer."  He  says,  after  allusion  to  the  con- 
ciseness and  minuteness  of  Dante's  descrip- 
tions, "Where  Milton  would  have  left  his 
images  to  float  undefined  in  a  gorgeous  haze 
of  language,"  and  has  given  us  his  splendid 
lines,  "I  will  frankly  confess,  that  the  vague 
sublimity  of  Milton  affects  me  less  than  these 
reviling  details  of  Dante.  .  .  .  We  read  Mil- 
ton and  we  know  that  we  are  reading  a  great 
poet:  When  we  read  Dante  the  poet  vanishes. 
We  are  listening  to  the  man  who  has  returned 
from  the  Valley  of  the  dolorous  Abyss !"  This 
whole  study  of  Dante  is  earnest,  appreciative, 
acute.  He  places  him  where  he  belongs,  at 
the  top.  Since  Coleridge  and  Shelley  and  he 
have  pointed  to  Dante  standing  beside  Homer 
the  "Sire"  with  his  royal  symbol  of  supreme 
rank,  no  English  writer  who  took  thought  for 
his  own  reputation  has  ventured  to  omit  him 
from  that  august  company. 

Some  Italian  authorities  find  it  strange  that 
this  close  and  acute  student  of  their  great  Mas- 
ter should  have  been  indifferent  to  the  power 
of  his  Allegory;  and  it  would  be  curious  for  one 


1 


173 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


who  had  mentioned  Bunyan  in  association  with 
him  to  have  assumed  this  view  of  what  stands 
forth  throughout  the  entire  Comedy;  but  per- 
haps they  have  not  quite  comprehended  the 
limitation  of  this  statement  as  employed.     Ma- 
caulay  refers  here  solely  to  the  use  of  allegory 
as  applied  to  "the  fabulous  deities";  and  is  ex- 
plaining  the  secret  of  Dante's  success,  where 
other  great  poets,  both  ancient  and  modern, 
have  failed  in  introducing  "the  ancient  fictions 
with  effect."     His  criticism  in  the  Essay  on 
Dryden  of  the  tendency  of  the  Italian  writers 
of  the  XlVth  Century  to  relate  every  picture 
to  the  suggestion  of  perpetual  allegory  is  but  a 
protest  against  the  overwhelming  of  the  won- 
derful poem  of  "the  mighty  imagination  that 
called  a  new  world  into  existence  and  made  all 
its  sights  and  sounds  familiar  to  the  eye  and 
ear  of  the  mind." 

Carlyle,  who  saw  things  in  his  own  and, 
sometimes,  peculiar  way,  takes  Dante  and 
Shakespeare  among  his  heroes  as  mere  poets 
beatified— "a  peculiar  Two"  he  terms  them. 
"They  dwell  apart  in  a  kind  of  royal  solitude 
—none  equal— none  second  to  them;  in  the 
general  feeling  of  the  world,  a  certain  transcen- 
dentalism, a  glory  as  of  complete  perfection  in- 


THE  DIVINE  COMEDY 


173 


vests  these  two."  Dante  is  the  true  "singer"; 
the  expression  of  the  deepest  thought  clad  in 
the  loftiest  and  noblest  music,  that  is  "song." 
He  is  the  spokesman  of  the  Middle  Ages,  "the 
voice  of  ten  silent  centuries,"  and  his  poem  is 
"a  mystic  unfathomable  song."^  He  places 
naught  so  high  as  Dante's  song;  in  it  all  the 
preceding  Centuries  have  sung.  He  suggests 
indeed  that  Dante's  Poem  may  be  the  most 
"enduring  thing  that  our  Europe  has  yet  made," 
as  Shakespeare  is  the  greatest  thing  that  we  of 
the  English  race  have  made. 

But  especially  is  Dante  the  voice  of  Italy, 
"speaking  forth  melodiously  what  the  heart  of 
it  means";  of  Italy  that  lay  even  in  Carlyle's 
day  "dismembered,  scattered  asunder,  not  ap- 
pearing in  any  protocol  or  treaty  as  a  unity  at 
all,"  yet  the  noble  Italy  was  "actually  one," 
for,  as  he  says  prophetically  "The  Nation  that 
has  a  Dante  is  bound  together"  as  even  no 
vast  "dumb  Russia  can  be." 

What  is  the  secret  of  it  all — of  its  power;  its 
appeal;  its  august  authority;  its  immortality.? 
Is  it  its  subject;  its  range;  its  grasp;  its  depth; 
its  sublimity  ?  Is  it  its  sincerity;  its  intensity; 
its  absolute  and  unwavering  pronouncement  of 

»T.  Carlyle:  Citing  Ticck:  Heroes  and  Hero  Worship,     "Tlie 
Hero  as  a  Poet." 


»74 


DANTB  AND  HIS  INFLUBNCB 


THE  DIVINE  COMEDY 


verity  ?  Or  docs  the  secret  He  in  all  these  ap- 
plied as  by  infallible  judgment  to  the  universal 
as  to  the  individual  Soul  of  Man;  the  eternal 
riddle  of  the  Sphinx:  man's  existence  and  rela- 
tion to  His  Maker,  presented  immortally  and 
inexorably  by  one  who  by  intellect,  insight, 
genius  and  power,  by  experience  and  the  condi- 
tions of  his  life  was  better  fitted  to  give  the 
answer  than  any  other  member  of  the  race 
before  or  since  ? 

As  Dante  wandered  up  and  down  throughout 
Italy,  sometimes  thridding  winding  paths  down 
through  valleys  filled  with  a  thousand  mingled 
odors  of  flowers  of  every  hue,  sometimes  climb- 
ing wearSy  over  mountains;  sometimes  in  sun- 
light, sometimes  in  fog  through  which  the  sun 
now  appeared  as  though  shining  like  a  mole's 
eye  through  a  white  veil  of  skin,  or  now  lost 
altogether,  and  again  shining  forth  with  all 
radiance  as  the  fog  blows  off  to  open  to  the  view 
the  far  sunlit  vista,  he  got  imperishable  im- 
pressions of  grandeur  or  beauty  which  he  has 
made  as  imperishable  for  us  as  they  were  for 
himself.  He  has  painted  for  us  Italy.  Can  one 
think  that  these,  his  pictures,  are  all  imaginary  ? 
Far  from  it.  Go  to  Italy  and  take  Dante  as 
your  guide.    You  shall  find  the  very  scenes. 


I7S 


He  painted  them  "out-of-doors" — so  to  speak. 
He  had  seen  them  and  knew  them.  Keep  with 
him  and  you  shall  see  the  Dawn  advance  with 
white  and  vermeil-tinctured  cheek  and,  like  him, 
shall  feel: 


<( 


As  when  to  harbinger  the  mom,  springs  up 
On  freshened  wing  the  air  of  May  and  breathes 
Of  fragrance,  all  impregned  with  herb  and  flowers: 
E'en  such  a  wind  I  felt  upon  my  front 
Blow  gently."* 


And  with  him  you  shall  feel 

"The  hour  that  wakens  fond  desire 
In  men  at  sea,  and  melts  their  thoughtful  heart 
Who  in  the  mom  have  bid  sweet  friends  farewell. 
And  pilgrim  newly  on  his  road  with  love 
Thrills,  if  he  hears  the  vesper  bell  from  afar. 
That  seems  to  moura  for  the  expiring  day.' 


f» 


Ruskin  appears  to  have  discovered  him  after 
he  wrote  the  first  volume  of  The  Stones  of  Venice^ 
for  Dante  is  not  referred  to  in  this  volume, 
while  the  second  volume  is  full  of  Dante. 

To  come  down  to  our  own  rime  we  find 
Browning,  Tennyson,  and  others,  like  their 
predecessors,  drawing  from  Dante  their  loftiest 
conceptions.     For  example:  Tennyson  not  only 

« Purgatory,  XXIV,  138.— CaryV  TransUuion, 


■  »i 


(I 


176 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


takes  from  the  lament  of  Francesca  da  Rimini 
his  striking  lines, 

"That  a  sorrow's  crown  of  sorrow  is  remembering  happier 
things," 

but  his  poem  Ulysses,  one  of  his  finest  poems, 
is  taken  both  in  conception  and  general  form 
directly  from  Dante. *  Not  that  Tennyson  or  his 
predecessors  had  not  the  right  to  follow  the  Poet 
of  Poets  and  take  from  their  Master's  crowded 
Armory  that  which  they  desired  as  they  fol- 
lowed his  banner.  All  high  imagining  has  in 
it  something  of  that  which  has  gone  before — 
something  of  the  universal  experience  or  aspira- 
tion. It  is  this  royal  pedigree  which  gives  all 
poetry  a  kinship  and  to  all  the  right  to  claim 
entry  within  the  King's  palace.  The  English- 
speaking  world  owes  them  a  debt  for  bringing  to 
them  in  forms  that  they  could  comprehend  the 
older  poet's  wonderful  visions. 

In  France  and  Germany  there  was  more 
recognition  of  Dante  than  in  England — yet  not 
too  much.  In  America  the  case  stood  almost 
as  in  England.  But  in  Boston  over  a  half-cen- 
tury ago  there  grew  up  a  Dante  cult  which 
has  brought  deserved  lustre  to  the  scholars 

« Inf emoi  XXVI. 


THE  DIVINE  COMEDY 


X77 


who  became  the  High  Priests  of  the  Cult,  and 
has  borne  rich  fruit. 

Longfellow  became  the  translator  of  Dante 
and    being   a   charming  poet,  though  hardly 
among  the  greatest,  and   very   scholarly,  his 
translation  in  blank  verse  is  poetical,  correct 
and  scholarly,  though  not  among  the  greatest,  as 
may  be  well  imagined,  when  we  know  that  he 
translated  thirty-one  cantos  in  thirty-one  con- 
secutive days.    The  notes,  indeed,  to  which  he 
gave  far  more  time  and  which  are  the  mature 
fruit  of  his  scholarship  are  a  veritable  contri- 
bution to  the  study  of  Dante.    And  his  intro- 
ductory sonnets  are  on  an  immeasurably  higher 
plane  than   his   translation.    They   mark   his 
loftiest  flight  as  a  poet.     Two  of  them,  indeed, 
contain  the  immortal  essence  that  bears  them 
soaring  into  the  realm  of  the  highest  inspiration. 
Charles  Eliot  Norton,  of  the  same  group  of 
devoted  Dante-students  and  lovers,  has  given 
us  a  translation  in  prose,  which,  less  aspiring 
and  more  patiently  careful,  follows  more  closely 
and  with  a  greater  ease  the  master's  echoing 
steps. 

I  feel  that  it  would  be  an  unwarranted  te- 
merity to  undertake  to  give  within  the  limits 
of  these    lectures    even    an    outline    of   the 


!  W 


i 


lyS 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


essence  of  a  work  so  unlimited  in  its  great- 
ness as  the  Comedy:  a  work  to  which  the 
greatest  of  the  great  of  his  time  devoted  so 
large  a  part  of  his  life  and  powers.  All  that 
one  can  do  is  to  point  to  its  majestic  propor- 
tions and  say,  Behold,  where  like  the  ever- 
lasting hills  it  springs  from  the  earth  to 
Heaven. 

Lowell  has  said  of  it  that  "he  who  becomes  a 
•tudent  of  Dante  becomes  a  lover  of  Dante," 
and  this  interpretation  of  the  spirit  of  the 
great  drama  is  as  true  as  though  it  possessed 
an  enchantment  which  draws  within  itself  who- 
ever has  the  temerity  to  so  much  as  draw  near 
thereto. 

The  Commedia  may  be  likened  to  a  great 
Stream  that,  rising  in  the  dark  recesses  of  some 
savage  mountain-forest,  drives  its  way  resist- 
lessly  through  wild  and  awful  regions,  at  times 
in  a  bed  too  deep  almost  to  be  traced,  yet  whose 
course  is  marked  by  the  roar  of  cataracts  and 
the  rush  of  rapids;  then,  coming  out  under  the 
stars,  it  enters  upon  a  course  through  a  region 
less  terrible  yet  still  wilderness  and  with  exten- 
sive tracts  of  desert,  abrupt  and  dread,  inter- 
spersed with  open  vales  and  flowery  meadows: 
pleasant  spaces  on  which  the  sun  shines  and  the 


THE  DIVINE  COMEDY 


179 


Stars  at  times  look  smiling  down;  and  then,  with 
a  swift  turn,  spreading  out  beneath  the  stars  in 
a  fair  and  shining  land  of  sunlight  and  joy  to 
glide  onward  with  majestic  current  mirroring 
in  its  bosom  the  verdant  shores  and  the  whole 
light-filled  arch  of  Heaven.  No  other  poet  has 
done  this — perhaps  no  other  poet  could  do  it. 

Well  did  Italy  give  to  his  work  the  appella- 
tion, "The  Divine." 

Studying  with  all  his  transcendent  powers, 
informed  with  immeasurable  genius,  inspired 
by  a  divine  conception  of  God,  he  assembles 
his  colors — all  the  learning — all  the  knowledge 
of  his  time.  Pedantry  and  prolixity  creep  in 
and  trail  along  in  his  course,  but  he  soars  on. 
All  the  imagined  wisdom  of  the  future — all  the 
passion  of  the  age  are  on  his  palette  and,  with 
supreme  genius  he  paints  them  on  his  mighty 
fresco  spread  to  take  in  the  past,  the  present, 
the  future:  the  world,  Hell,  Purgatory,  and 
Paradise. 

Nothing  was  too  small  and  nothing  too  great 
for  his  august  genius  to  picture  and  fix  forever 
in  imperishable  form.  Not  Giotto  nor  Raphael 
painted  such  devotion;  not  Michael  Angelo 
carved,  whether  singly  or  in  groups,  such  life- 
like figures;  not  Petrarch  nor  Ariosto  sang  so 


{'• 


fi 


I! 
I 


x8o 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


III 


lofty  and  celestial  a  love.  Who  ever  found 
and  trod  so  boldly  the  path  that  spans  the 
vast  abyss  and  leads  from  earth  to  Hell  and 
thence  to  Heaven?  Who  ever  bridged  with 
such  audacity  the  gulf  between  the  natural 
and  the  supernatural?  Who  ever  soared  so 
boldly  not  only  into  the  sun;  but  into  the  light 
of  Him  who  made  the  Sun  and  all  the  stars  ? 

It  has  been  objected  by  some  of  his  commen- 
tators that  Dante  wrote  only  of  the  higher 
class,  ignoring  the  lower  classes  who  represented 
the  great  body  of  the  poor.  The  charge  is 
superficial  and  unsound.  He  sang  of  men  of 
fame  for  a  sound  reason  that  he  gives:  that 
others  would  listen  only  when  he  sang  of  such. 
But  if  he  sang  of  these,  he  sang  for  the  lowly 
and  they  knew  the  song. 

In  the  first  place,  it  was  the  Feudal  Age — 
the  Age  when  the  Gulf  between  Dives  and 
Lazarus  was  fixed  and  very  great,  and  while  he 
indicts  by  name  mainly  those  of  renown;  his 
mention  of  them  is  usually  to  point  his  moral 
with  that  infinite  apprehension  of  the  individual 
sins  and  vices  that  typifies  the  passion  of  man- 
kind. And  the  whole  tenor  of  his  work  is  to 
hymn  Divine  Justice  and  "justify  the  ways  of 
God  to  man." 


THE  DIVINE  COMEDY 


i8i 


The  poor  and  humble  had  they  not  enough 
to  bear  without  his  cataloguing  their  short- 
comings for  the  detestation  and  horror  of  the 
Ages  ?    And  could  he  have  championed  their 
cause  more  nobly  than  he  has  in  his  incompara- 
ble assault  on  those  who  oppressed  and  trod 
them  down:  the  proud  and  truculent;  the  avari- 
cious and  unjust  ?    Prelates  and  Nobles— even 
Popes  he  pillories  with  intrepid  courage  and 
sublime  art.    The  Class  that  he  is  said  to  have 
Ignored  have,  with  a  finer  insight  and  a  true 
intuition,  a  juster  appreciation  of  him  whom 
we  celebrate  than  have  those  superficial  crirics. 
Where  Dante  is  concerned  there  is  no  more 
question  of  class  among  Italians  than  where 
Italy  is.     Else  he  would  never  have  been  what 
he  is  to^ay  in  Italy— he  would  never  have  be- 
come the  oracle  of  the  little  paesi  that,  as  I  have 
stated,  he  is  to-day. 

The  true  secret  of  his  extraordinary  influence 
and  power  among  the  Italian  people  to-day  in 
whatever  part  of  the  world  they  may  be  colo- 
nized is  that  they  feel  him  to  have  been  the 
great  representarive  and  spokesman  of  their 
race.  That  is  why  but  nowthroughout  the  world 
they  have  been  celebrating  him  reverently  as 
the  inspired  Apostle  of  a  new  Evangel  of  the 


I 


; 


id 


m 


Hil 

! 
UK 


i8a 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


gospel  of  Justice  and  of  Righteousness  addressed 
to  Humanity,  preached  from  a  pulpit  higher 
than  that  of  prelates,  with  an  authority  greater 
than  that  of  popes,  in  accents  touched  with 
divine  beauty  which  find  an  echo  in  every 
Italian  heart. 

Should  there  be  those  who  might  esteem  my 
statement  to  be  extravagant  and  who  might 
assert,  as  has  been  asserted,  that  the  lower  class 
—the  peasant— has  not  the  comprehension  of 
Beauty  nor  the  love  of  the  beautiful  that  the 
cultivated  and  cultured  have;  let  me  say  to 
them  that  such  may  be  the  general  case  among 
more  occidental  and  duller  peoples;  but  it  is  not 
true  of  the  Italian— nor  is  it  always  true  even 
among  the  duller  or  more  commonplace  Anglo- 
Saxon — as  witness  Ben  Jonson  and  Burns  and 
Keats,  bricklayer  and  ploughman  and  horse- 
jobber's  son.  In  Italy  the  love  of  the  beau- 
tiful is  not  the  heritage  of  the  rich  and  cultured 
only,  it  is  a  trait  of  the  Italian  mind,  as  even 
the  wayfarer  cannot  but  recognize  as  he  passes 
through  Italy.  It  speaks  in  eloquent  terms 
from  scores  of  towns  and  hundreds  of  little 
paesi  throughout  Italy.  In  the  poorest  quar- 
ters he  will  find  touching  evidence  of  it  in  the 
flowers  growing  in  often  the  meanest  and  com- 


THE  DIVINE  COMEDY 


X83 


monest  vessels,  hung  at  poor  little  windows  to 
speak  of  the  hunger  for  something  to  satisfy 
some  smothered  aesthetic  taste.  In  the  most 
remote  villages  he  will  find  the  woman  clad  in 
colors  so  harmonious  as  to  baffle  any  question  of 
origin.  It  is  taste — an  aesthetic  feeling — ^what 
you  will;  but  it  is  innate.  It  has  spoken  for 
six  hundred  years  from  Giotto's  tower.  It  has 
spoken  a  longer  or  a  shorter  time  from  many 
another  campanile  and  picture  and  palace 
throughout  Italy.  Wealth  and  patronage  are 
often  needed  to  give  scope  to  this  innate  taste, 
though  by  no  means,  always;  but  the  taste  and 
genius  are  endowments  of  those  who  mainly 
have  not  the  other.  There  have  been  royal 
poets;  but  who  can  doubt  that  the  anointing  oil 
came  from  some  divinely  commissioned  prophet  ? 

All  this  Dante  knew,  and  when  he  chose  his 
village-song  name  and  his  language  of  the  peo- 
ple for  his  vehicle  he  chose  them  because  he 
knew  that  the  safety  of  his  carroccio  depended 
on  the  devotion  of  Italy  and  of  the  Italian 
People.  To  them  as  his  world  he  made  his 
appeal,  and  he  made  it  in  terms  '"  understanded 
of  the  People." 

His  work  is  full  of  pastoral  allusions,  such  as 
those  who  used  the  vulgar  tongue  would  appre- 


M 


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fil 


liii 


i 


*i|^ 


mi' 


ill 


184 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


ciate  more  than  the  proud  nobles  and  wealthy 
burghers  of  Florence.*  A  few  examples  will 
illustrate: 

In  the  XXIVth  Canto  of  the  Inferno  Is  a 
winter  scene  which  every  viUanello — every  poor 
Italian  farmer — might  feel  to  be  his  personal  ex- 
perience— ^when  his  first  look  out  in  the  morn- 
ing shows  him  the  ground  white  with  frost  and 
he  re-enters  the  house  to  bemoan  his  fodderless 
lot  and  then  within  an  hour  finds  the  snow  gone 
and  seizing  his  staff,  hastens  to  drive  his  lambs 
out  to  pasture. 

The  country  scenes  with  which  Dante  softens 
his  Purgatorio  are  as  pastoral  as  David's. 

In  the  Third  Canto  of  the  Purgatorio  where 
his  journey  has  brought  him  with  his  Master 
to  the  foot  of  the  Mountain  where  they  en- 
counter the  souls  of  those  who  died  in  con- 
tumacy against  the  Church,  he  describes  how 
they  came  when  he  asks  the  easiest  way  up  the 
steep  ascent: 

"Come  le  pecorelle  escon  dal  chiuso 
ad  una,  a  due,  a  tre,  e  Taltre  stanno, 
Timidette  atterrando  Tocchio  e  il  muso; 

*I  well  recall  my  friend,  Professor  Barrett  Wendell's  joy  at 
receiving  from  a  small  fanner  near  Taormina  whom  he  had  con- 
gratulated on  his  gravid  sow,  a  reply  couched  in  a  line  of  Dante's. 


THE  DIVINE  COMEDY 


i8S 


£  cid  che  fa  la  prima,  e  I'altre  fanno 
addossandosi  a  lei  s'ella  arresta, 
semplici  quete  e  k>'mperch8  non  samio. 


w 


"As  little  sheep  go  out  from  the  fold 

by  ones,  by  twos,  by  threes  and  the  others  stand 

timid  and  holding  eye  and  muzzle  to  the 

ground,  and  what  the  first  doth  that  the 

others  do,  huddling  up  to  her  should  she  stop, 

simple  and  quiet,  and  what  the  reason  is 

know  not."  _  ^         ,,, 

— PuTi^t  Canto  Illf  79-84. 

When  at  the  beginning  of  Canto  XVII  of 
the  Inferno  he  describes  the  Monster  Geryon, 
he  describes  him  as  an  old  skiiF  that  lies  at 
times  half  in  the  water  and  half  out,  and  pres- 
ently when  he  finds  the  Usurers  who  have  done 
violence  to  Nature  and  now  sit  with  eye  fixed 
forever  on  their  purses  he  tells  of  one  who  is  a 
Paduan, 


€t 


i€ 


Qui  distorse  la  bocca  e  di  fuor  trasse 
la  lingua,  come  bue  che  il  naso  lecchi,** 


Who  writhed  the  mouth  and  lolled  his  tongue  out  like 
aa  ox  that  licks  his  nostrils." 


Surely  these  apt  and  homely  similes  are  for 
the  country  folk. 

In  the  XXVIIth  Canto  of  the  Purgatorio, 
he  paints  a  scene  with  the  goats,  wild   and 


il 


)t^l 


m 


il 


x86 


DA  NTS  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


wanton  enough  on  the  hills  when  unfed,  now 
well  fed  and  quiet  in  the  heat  of  the  day  lying 
down  in  the  shade  chewing  the  cud  while  the 
shepherd  leaning  on  his  staff  minds  the  flock: 

"Quali  si  fanno  niminando  manse 
le  capre  state  raptde  e  proterve 
aopra  le  dme,  avanti  chc  sien  pranse 
Tacite  airombra,  mentre  che  il  sol  ferv^ 
guardate  dal  pastor,  che  in  su  la  verga 
poggiato  s'fc,  e  lor  poggiato  serve.*' 

•*Likc  goats  that  having  over  crags  pursued 
Their  wanton  sports  now  quiet  pass  the  time 
In  ruminating— sated  with  their  food, 
Beneath  the  shade,  while  glows  the  sun  on  high 
Watched  by  the  shepherd  with  unceasing  care! 
As  on  his  staff  he  leans,  with  watchful  eye." 

—Wnghi. 

I  When  descending  to  the  abode  of  Minos,  the 
dread  judge,  in  the  second  circle  of  Perdition, 
he  stts  the  carnal  sinners  swept  along  by  "La 
bufera  infemale,"  the  infernal  hurricane,  he, 
after  a  picture  of  the  bellowing  sea,  likens  them 
to  the  starlings  swept  along  in  great  ranks  by 
the  winter  wind,  and  then  to  cranes  passing 
in  a  long  line  sounding  their  cry.  He  often 
sings  of  birds — usually  to  express  happiness  and 
joy;  but  here  he  is  picturing  the  reverse  of 
these— infinite  woe— the  tempest  and  the  bel- 


THE  DIVINE  COMEDY 


187 


lowing  sea  and  he  employs  the  storm-driven 
starlings  and  the  cranes  to  give  at  once  the 
sense  of  motion  and  violence  to  the  sweep  of 
the  storm  and  vividness  to  the  lament  of  the 
lost  souls  swept  on  by  its  power.  No  other 
such  picture  of  a  storm  has  ever  been  given. 
Beginning  with  a  tempest  at  sea  it  is  lifted  by 
a  touch  to  the  storm  of  the  wrath  of  God. 
And  at  the  end  human  pity  sinks  overwhelmed 
into  merciful  oblivion.  No  translation  has 
ever  approached  the  faintest  reproduction  of 
the  sublimity  of  this  Canto. 

"E  come  gli  stomei  ne  portan  Tali, 
nel  freddo  tempo,  a  schiera  larga  e  piena; 
cod  quel  fiato  gli  spiriti  mali; 

Di  qua,  di  la,  di  giu,  di  su  gli  mena, 
nulla  speranza  gli  conforta  mai 
non  che  di  posa,  ma  di  minor  pena. 

£  come  i  gru  van  cantando  lor  lai, 
facendo  in  aer  di  se  lunga  riga, 
cost  vid'io  venir  traendo  guai, 
ombre  portate  della  detta  briga." 

— VlnfernOf  F,  40  et  seq. 

And  a  little  later,  in  the  immortal  scene  where 
at  his  call,  "Light  upon  the  air,"  come  together 
the  spirits  of  Francesca  da  Rimini  and  Paolo 
da  Verrucchio,   he  resembles  them  to  doves 


¥ 


•'  1 

i 


'I 


i88 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


■If! 


t 


that  at  the  call  of  love  come  floating  down  on 
quiet  wings  to  meet  their  mates,  at  their  sweet 
nests. 

His  famous  picture  of  Francesca  da  Rimini 
and  her  Lover  is  softened  hardly  more  by  her 
tender  lament,  than  by  this  beautiful  simile  of 
doves.  Observant  of  Nature  in  every  mood 
and  feeling,  its  poetry  in  every  strain,  he  was 
especially  given  to  drawing  his  similes  from 
birds— uccelli  is  the  musical  Italian  name,  or 
sometimes  augelli— especially  from  doves,  which 
are  perhaps  of  all  created  life  those  that  have 
closest  affinity  to  the  impalpable  ethereal  ele- 
ment,  denoting  love,  gentleness,  and  peace. 

"Quale  colombe  dal  dcsio  chiamate 
Con  Tali  alzate  e  fcrmc  al  dolce  nido 
Vengon  per  I'aer  dal  voler  portate."  « 

In  the  Purgatorio  the  hurried  flight,  at  Cato's 
call,  of  the  souls  who  had  been  listening  with 
him  and  Virgil  in  deep  content,  to  Casella's 
singing  of  his  song,  he  likens  to  the  flight  of 
doves  suddenly  frightened  while  quietly  pick- 
ing up  the  grain  of  their  repast.^ 

Thus  also  when  he  st^s  the  holy  champions 
of  the  Faith  pass  in  seraphic  chorus  before  the 

« V Inferno,  V,  82-5. 
•  Purgatorio^  Canto  II. 


THE  DIVINE  COMEDY 


189 


arms  of  the  Cross,  he  likens  them  to  flocks  of 
birds  above  the  shore  risen  content  from  their 
feeding-ground  and  wheeling,  now  in  circles 
and  now  in  other  ranks: 


u 


£  come  augelli  surti  di  riviera 
quasi  congratulando  a  lore  pasture 
fanno  di  se  or  tonda  or  altra  schiera. 


Si  dentro  ai  lumi  sante  creature 
Yolitando  cantavano" 

— Paradiso,  Canto  XFIII,  73,  75. 

Again  in  the  next  Canto  he  uses  the  stork  to 
illustrate  the  love  that  guards  and  the  love 
that  is  dependent: 

"Quale  sovr'  esso  il  nido  si  rigira 
poi  che  ha  pasciuto  la  cigogna  i  figli, 
e  come  quei  ch'^  pasto  la  rimira; 


. » 


€1 


As  o'er  her  nest  the  stork  goes  circling  round 
When  she  with  food  has  satisfied  her  young 
And  as  the  brood,  well-fed,  look  still  to  her 


fi 


>» 


/•, 


He  opens  Canto  XXIII  of  the  Paradiso  with 
a  picture  of  birds  and  of  Beatrice: 

"Come  Taugello,  intra  Tamate  fronde^ 
posato  al  nido  de  suoi  dolci  nati 
la  notte  che  le  cose  ci  nasconde, 

Che,  per  veder  gli  aspetti  desiad, 
e  per  trovar  lo  cibo  ondegli  pasca, 
in  che  i  gravi  labor  gli  sono  aggrati, 


f 


J  J 


I90 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


lit 


Prcvicne  il  tempo  in  su  I'aperta  frasca 
e  con  ardente  afFetto  i!  sole  aspetta, 
fiso  guardando,  pur  die  I'alba  nasca; 

Cos!  la  donna  mia  si  stave  cretta 
ed  attenta,  rivolta  in  ver  la  plaga, 
•otto  la  quale  il  sol  mostra  men  fretu. 


•• 


fji 


III 


**Even  as  the  bird  amid  the  leaves  beloved 
Reposes  on  the  nest  of  her  sweet  brood. 
By  night  which  hideth  all  things  from  our  sight* 

Then,  so  she  may  behold  their  well-loved  forms 
And  find  the  food  with  which  to  nourish  them, 
In  which  her  heavy  labors  are  a  joy. 

Prevents  the  mom  upon  an  outer  spray» 
And  with  an  ardent  love  awaits  the  sun. 
Fixedly  watching  for  the  birth  of  dawn. 

So  stood  my  Lady,  erect  and  all  intent 

Turned  toward  the  region  'neath  the  which  the  sun 

Doth  show  less  haste." 

Another  illustration  of  birds  comes  when  in 
the  Seventh  Heaven  describing  the  holy  joy  of 
contemplation,  he  pictures  Jacob's  ladder: 

••Vidi  anco  per  li  gradi  scender  giuso 
tanti  splendor,  ch'io  pensai  ch'ogni  lume 
che  par  nel  del,  quindi  fosse  diffuse. 

E  come,  per  lor  natural  costume, 

le  pole  insieme,  al  cominciar  del  giomo^ 

li  muQvpnQ  a  f  galdar  Ic  (redde  piumc; 


THE  DIVINE  COMEDY 


191 


Poi  altrc  vanno  via  senza  ritorno; 
altre  rivolgon  s^  onde  son  mosse, 
ed  altre  roteando  fan  soggiorno, 

Tal  modo  parve  a  me  che  quivi  fosse 
\u  quello  sfavillar  che  insieme  venne 
d  come  in  certo  grado  si  percosse." 

— ParadisOf  Canto  XXI,  31-43. 

"I  saw,  moreover,  coming  down  its  steps 
so  many  glowing  splendors,  that  I  thought 
that  every  star  seen  shining  in  the  sky 
had  been  poured  out  of  it.    And  even  as  rooks 
as  is  their  natural  wont,  when  day  begins, 
together  move  to  warm  their  chilly  plumes; 
and  then,  without  returning,  some  fly  off, 
and  some  go  back  to  whence  they  started  first, 
while  others,  whirling  in  a  circle,  stay; 
such  was,  it  seemed  to  me  the  fashion  here 
within  the  sparkling  throng  which  came  together.'* 

In  the  Paradiso  he  uses  doves  for  his  simile 
in  the  Eighth  Heaven.^ 

In  the  preceding  Canto  he  has  seen  St.  Peter 
and  has  been  questioned  by  him  as  to  his  Faith 
and  the  reasons  therefor  and  has  given  his 
creed:  Belief  in  The  Trinity:  One  God: 

"Solo  ed  Etemo  che  tutto  il  del  move 
Non  moto,  con  amore  e  con  desio," 

and  three  persons,  Eternal  and  of  one  esserce. 
Now  comes  St.  James,  who  typifies  Hrpe, 

•  ParaduOf  Canto  XXV,  19-24. 


\l 


f 


I 


f 


199 


DAIfTB  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


and  Dante  describes  his  Hope  that  "the  Sacred 
Poem  to  which  both  Heaven  and  Earth  have 
so  set  hand  that  it  had  made  him  lean  for 
many  years,"  might  overcome  the  fierceness  of 
the  hostile  wolves,  who  had  driven  him  from 
his  charming  fold.  .  .  .  "That  sheep-fold  of 
St.  John," — of  which  he  had  asked  his  ances- 
tor, Cacciaguida  (Canto  XVI),— where  he  had 
slept  like  a  lamb  and  to  which  he  hoped  still 
to  return  and  as  a  Poet  take  at  his  own  bap- 
tismal font  the  laurel  crown. 

He  thus  pictures  the  coming  of  the  Spirit  of 
Hope,  "the  Baron,"  as  he  terms  St.  James: 


« 


Si  come  quando  il  Colombo  si  pone 

presso  al  compagno,  e  I'uno  air  altro  pande» 

girando  e  moimorando,  Taffeziono; 


Co^  vid'io  Fun  dalF  altro  grande 
Principe  glorioso  essere  accolto, 
laudando  il  cibo  che  lassii  li  prande. 


ft 


**As,  when  a  dore  tlightcth  near  its  mate, 
each,  by  its  circling  and  its  cooing,  shows 
the  other  its  affection;  thus  I  saw 
one  great  and  glorious  Prince  the  other  greet 
and  praise  the  food 
which  sateth  them  up  there." 

— C.  Langdon. 


VI 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TEACHING 

Dante  was  not  the  first  to  conceive  of  a 
journey  to  the  Infernal  regions.  Homer  and 
Virgil  had  both  pictured  in  immortal  verse 
such  an  experience  and  other  poets  had  done 
the  same.  He  was  not  even  the  first  to  give 
the  experience  of  a  human  being  making  the 
complete  journey.  Fra  Alberico  and  others  had 
essayed  it.  But  he  was  the  first  to  make  such 
a  journey  the  central  thread  on  which  to  hang 
in  epic  form  the  whole  drama  of  Human  Life 
together  with  the  conditions  that  brought  it 
into  being,  surround  it  in  its  mortal  stage,  and 
absorb  it  at  the  end,  chastened  and  redeemed 
in  the  infinite. 

It  has  been  often  charged  that  he  is  grotesque 
and  his  verse  at  times  harsh.  Both  charges 
are  measurably  true.  The  time  was  grotesque 
to  us;  whether  it  was  so  to  itself  is  a  different 
question.  Burning  men  for  their  opinions  is 
grotesque.  Dante  had  seen  it  done.  He  tells 
us  so.     Bowing  them   beneath  immeasurable 

193 


\ 


k 
fi 


194 


DANTB  AND  ms  INFLUENCE 


m 


I 


(i! 


h(l. 


weights  that  bend  them  to  the  ground  is  gro- 
tesque however  poets  have  pictured  them  thus 
burdened  down,  and  architects  have  perpetuated 
the  idea  in  stone.  Do  we  not  to-day  in  strain- 
ing and  distorted  caryatides  follow  the  gro- 
tesque ? 

Dante  was  master  of  his  song — and  knew 
how  to  adapt  it  to  his  aim. 

All  the  preaching  of  the  time  was  of  a 
material  or  physical  Inferno  and  Purgatory. 
None  doubted  the  existence,  or  even  within 
limits  the  location  of  such  places  of  punishment. 
Many  Ages  have  passed  since  then  without 
substantial  change  of  this  fundamental  idea, 
and  up  to  a  generation  or  two  ago,  it  may  be 
said  to  have  been  generally  accepted,  and  even 
now  it  is  distinctly  taught  by  a  great  portion 
of  the  body  of  the  Church. 

The  Crusades  were  to  purge  men  of  their 
sins,  not  indeed,  of  the  spirit  of  sin,  but  of  the 
consequences  of  sin  in  the  form  of  violence  and 
to  save  them  from  perpetual  physical  punish- 
ment which  they  feared. 

To  criticize  Dante  for  having  accepted  the 
belief  of  the  time  is  to  criticize  him  for  not 
having  revolutionized  the  belief  of  the  whole 
world  and  the  preaching  of  the  entire  Church. 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TEACHING 


X9S 


He  addresses  a  world  in  which  his  figures  were 
as  plausible  and  as  real  as  the  scenes  enacted 
before  the  eye.  He  made  them  so  real  that 
they  have  lasted  in  the  conception  of  the  minds 
of  men  almost  down  to  the  present  time.  Gro- 
tesque, painful,  brutal  some  of  the  scenes  may 
appear;  but  withal  his  work  in  scope,  in  sweep, 
and  in  manner  is  august.  And  with  such  a 
scope  and  manner  the  grotesque  but  sets  ofF 
and  emphasizes  the  harmonious  beauty  of  the 
majestic  whole,  a  poem  of  which  it  may  be 
said  that  it  might  appear  the  answer  to  that 
prayer: 


O  issplendor  di  Dio,  per  cu'io  vidi 
Talto  trionfo  del  regno  verace 
dammi  virtu  a  dir  com'io  lo  vidi." 

O  splendor  of  God  through  which  I  saw 
the  exalted  triumph  of  the  Realm  of  Truth 
Give  me  but  power  to  tell  how  I  beheld  it.' 


it 


But  we  must  remember  that  there  is  what 
Ruskin  terms  the  Noble.  Grotesque.  In  his 
chapter  on  the  Renaissance  Grotesque  in  the 
third  volume  of  The  Stones  of  Venice  he  goes 
into  a  long  and  acute  discussion  of  the  nature 
of  the  difference  between  the  Noble  Grotesque 
and  the  debased  Renaissance  Grotesque. 


I 


196 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INPLUENCB 


He  is  writing  of  the  Architecture  of  Venice; 
but  in  dealing  with  the  subject  which  he  terms 
"Noble  Architecture,"  he  cites  Dante,  of  whom, 
he  says,  that  "he  believes  that  all  such  men  as 
Dante  are  sent  into  the  world  when  they  can 
do  their  work  best."  And  he  adds,  "therefore 
though  there  are  passages  in  the  Inferno  which 
it  would  be  impossible  for  any  poet  now  to 
write,  I  look  upon  it  as  all  the  more  perfect  for 
them."  "The  whole  of  the  Inferno,"  he  goef 
on,  "is  full  of  this  Grotesque,  as  well  as  'The 
Faerie  Queen.' " 

Finally,  after  an  analysis  of  the  two  forms  of 
the  Grotesque  and  of  the  difference  between 
them,  he  says:  "I  think  that  the  central  man 
of  all  the  world  as  representing  in  perfect  bal- 
ance, the  imaginative,  moral  and  intellectual 
faculties,  all  at  their  height,  is  Dante.  And 
in  him  the  Grotesque  reaches  at  once  the  most 
distinct  and  the  most  noble  development  to 
which  it  was  ever  brought  in  the  human  mind." 

He  then  cites  to  sustain  his  view  of  the  Noble 
Grotesque,  the  theory  of  which  he  so  fully  de- 
velops, Shakespeare's  Grotesqueness  and  that 
of  iEschylus  and  of  Sophocles. 

In  fact,  I  think  we  may  conclude  with  Rus- 
kin»  that  while  something  must  be  attributed 


Nil 


\ 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TEACHING 


197 


to  the  time,  Dante  deliberately  built  into  his 
fabric  the  grotesque  with  a  full  sense  of  its 
effect  in  heightening  the  relief  of  its  lofty  and 
august  beauty. 

If  he  was  at  times  apparently  even  harsh,  it 
was,  we  may  feel  sure,  his  deliberate  election  to 
express  in  the  very  sound  of  his  verse  the  idea 
that  he  proposed  to  convey  unsmoothed  and 
virile. 

The  author  of  the  Ottimo  Commento  says: 
"I,  the  writer,  heard  Dante  say  that  never  a 
rhyme  had  brought  him  to  say  other  than  he 
would;  but  that  many  a  rime  and  oft  he  had 
made  words  say  for  him  what  they  would  not 
say  for  other." 

It  was  a  proud  boast  which  Posterity  has 
justified. 

Yet,  however  harsh  he  was,  and  apparently 
wilfully  so  when  it  suited  his  idea,  who  could 
be  so  melodious  as  he  when  he  wished  and  who 
so  simply  and  tenderly  beautiful!  Not  Pe- 
trarch, nor  Ariosto,  nor  the  greatest  of  their 
followers;  for  however  great  they  were,  they 
were  all  followers  of  him.  However  boldly 
they  ventured  forth,  their  prow  ever  followed 
in  the  shining  wake  of  what  Dante  terms  his 
navicello.     There  was  a  time  when  under  some 


N. 


\ 


ll. 


198 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLVBNCB 


i 


I 


curious  literary  malaise  even  the  literary  quid- 
nuncs, carried  away  by  the  spreading  sails  of 
those  voyageurs,  forgot  the  leader  and  inspirer 
and  under  some  delusion  thought  the  followers 
led  the  leader. 

But  who— at  least,  any  other  than  Petrarch 
himself— imagines  that   Petrarch  would    have 
sung  his  charming  love-strains  to  Laura  and 
would  have  swept  the  lyre  with  so  entrancing 
an  art  had  it  not  been  for  his  Master,  Dante  ? 
Who  believes  that  Ariosto,  Tasso  or  Alfieri 
would  have  soared  to  such  lofty  heights  but 
for  the  imperial  leader  who  had  shown  the  way  ? 
They   all— even   Petrarch   however  he   might 
assert  rivalry— laid  their  chaplets  at  their  Mas- 
ter's feet,  they  and  their  followers  alike,  and 
the   dry    and    formal    and   non-understanding 
critics  who  judged  by  contemporary  and  tem- 
porary popular  applause  have  proved  as  futile 
in  their  attempt  to  subordinate  the  great  Master 
of  Italian  song  as  they  have  been  non-under- 
standing of  that  for  which  he  has  stood  in 
Italy  through  the  Ages.     There  is  no  artist, 
no  poet  whom  Italy  would  deem  worthy  to 
endow  with  the  name  who  has  not  tried  to  pay 
his  tribute  of  honor  and  gratitude  to  the  Poet 
of  Poets.     From  the  reply  of  Guido  Cavalcanti 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TEACHING 


199 


and  Cino  da  Pistoia  to  Dante's  first  sonnet  on 
down  to  the  latest  Italian  Poet,  every  one  who 
aspired  to  national  recognition  has  paid  his 
meed  of  honor  to  the  Master. 

When  Cecco  Angiolieri  commends  himself  to 
Dante  he  speaks  for  the  long  retinue  that  has 
followed: 


"Dante  Alighier  da  Cecco  '1  tuo  serv  c  amico 
si  raccomanda  a  te  com'a  signorc." 

Boccaccio,  Antonio  Pucci,  Michael  Angelo, 
John  Battista  Mirini,  Agosto  Paradisi,  Alfieri, 
John  Battista  Niccolini,  Silvio  Pellico,  Leopardi, 
Agostino  Cagnoli,  Guiseppe  Giusti,  Marchetti, 
Mameli,  Carducci,  Giacomo  Zanella,  Giuseppe 
Manno  all  have  written  Poems  to  Dante  as 
their  Master  and  Guide. 

Among  the  benefits  which  Dante  conferred 
on  Italy  and,  indeed,  on  the  world  in  his  master- 
piece was  first,  his  dedication  of  his  great  powers 
to  the  teaching  of  the  moral  purpose  of  Man's 
existence;  and  secondly,  their  application  in 
the  forms  of  beauty  and  majesty  in  which  he 
clothed  his  great  ideas;  and  thirdly,  the  me- 
dium and  the  manner  in  which  he  presented 
them.  Among  these,  intertwined  with  rare 
art  are  all  the  other  beauties  and  benefits  of 


^  I 


I  ri 


* 


200 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


m 


his  work,  which  amaze  and  enthrall  the  scholar 
and  the  student. 

Hitherto,  poetry  had  been  the  language  of 
the  Drawing- Room  and  the  Bower.  Dante  lifted 
it  and  made  it  that  of  the  Sanctuary  and  the 
Open  Sky.  With  bowed  heart  and  upHfted 
eyes  he,  as  Italy's  greatest  teacher,  sounded  all 
the  depths  of  human  experience  and  soared  to 
heights  of  ineffable  light,  hymning  the  Might 
and  Majesty  of  God  and  expounding  the  Wis- 
dom, Justice,  and  Love  of  the  Divine.  If  his 
thought  is  often  so  profound  as  to  baffle  scholars, 
his  illustrations  are  addressed  to  the  simplest 
heart  and  are  clad  in  the  mild  manner  in  qua 
et  mulitrculcB  communicanL  And  it  must  be 
remembered  that  Wisdom  is  sometimes  hidden 
from  the  wise  and  prudent  and  revealed  unto 
babes. 

But  Dante  did  far  more  for  Italy  than  merely 
write  for  them  a  great  poem  or  poems.  In 
this  he  did  for  Italy  only  what  he  did  for  the 
whole  worid  had  the  world  but  the  wit  to 
know  it  as  the  Italians  know  it.  His  especial 
endowment  for  Italy  was  something  beyond 
this.  What  he  did  for  the  Italians  was  to 
give  them  a  National  Consciousness  and  furnish 
them  the  means  to  attain  it  completely.    As 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TEACHING 


20X 


Virgil  aroused  him  and  guided  him,  so  he 
aroused  the  Italian  soul  and  pointed  it  to 
the  heights  where  the  sun  shines,  and  then  led 
it  forward. 

In  a  time  when  superstition  was  usurping 
the  high  seat  of  pure  religion  and  when  scholar- 
ship bereft  of  faith  was  tending  more  and  more 
to  point  to  pagan  virtues  as  the  aim  of  cukure 
rather  than  to  Christian  Faith,  Dante  arrayed 
on  the  side  of  Religion,  a  scholarship  second 
to  none  in  Italy  and  with  a  genius,  unapproach- 
able by  any,  sounded  the  call  back  to  the  wor- 
ship of  God  and  of  His  Divine  Son.    Against 
all  the  teaching  of  the  Sceptics  and  Agnostics 
he  placed  the  authority  of  Divine  revelation; 
the  authority  of  the  sainted  Fathers  and,  in  a 
worid  which  was  the  epitome  of  his  time,  held 
up  for  the  amazement  and  conversion  to  the 
Truth  of  the  ItaKan  people  a  drama  which  first 
compelled   attention   and  then   brought  them 
trembling  and  amazed  to  a  new  realization  of 
the  infinite  Power  and  Dominion  of  the  Lord 
of  Lords  and  King  of  Kings.     He  taught  in  a 
form  that  went  home  to  every  heart  and  mind 
how  even  Popes  and  Emperors  are  subject  to 
His  dominion  and  must  stand  at  last  at  the 
Judgment  bar  of  Divine  Justice  to  receive  sen- 


'^f 


I 

H 


'i 


303 


DANTB  AND  HIS  INFLUBNCB 


tence  according  to  their  deeds.  If  he  sang 
mainly  of  the  great  and  powerful,  as  has  been 
charged,  the  voice  was  one  that  represented 
the  people — ^the  oppressed  and  mute,  and  they 
recognized  it  as  such.  They  might  not  under- 
stand the  esoteric  analysis  of  motive  and  ac- 
tion or  the  sublime  flights  of  his  imperial 
imagination;  but  when  a  great  Noble  or  Prince 
of  a  powerful  House  was  put  by  name  to  the 
torture  in  Hell,  they  could  understand  the 
courage  and  the  motive  that  chained  him  there. 
The  wealth  of  classical  allusion  might  be  lost 
on  them;  but  the  simple  morality  was  under- 
stood and  his  illustrations  taken  from  the  ordi- 
nary scenes  of  life  as  common  to  the  peasant 
as  the  prince  went  home  to  them. 

Among  his  traits  shines  his  desire  for  Fame. 
Petrarch  declares  that  he  sacrificed  his  wife 
md  family  seeking  glory.  We  need  not  ac- 
cept this  harsh  estimate;  for  Petrarch  certainly 
was  envious  of  Dante's  reputation,  and  one  of 
Dante's  daughters,  and  two  of  his  sons,  were 
with  him  in  Ravenna.  Dante  was  free  from 
envy.  His  deadly  sin,  he  tells  us  himself,  was 
Pride.  But  undoubtedly  he  was  avid  of  fame 
and  did  not  spare  himself  in  its  pursuit. 

When  in  the  seventh  gulf  of  Hell  he  sinks 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TEACHING 


303 


/ 


down  breathless  and  exhausted  after  his  climb 
out  of  the  sixth  gulf,  his  Master  spurs  him  on 
with  the  mention  of  fame: 

"Omai  convien  che  tu  corf  ti  spoltre 
Disse  'I  maestro;  chi  seggendo  in  piuma. 
In  fama  non  si  vicn,  ne  sotto  coltre, 

Senza  la  qual  chi  sua  vita  consuma, 

cotal  vestigio  in  terra  di  se  lascia, 

qual  fummo  in  acre  cd  in  acqua  la  schiuma."» 

"'Now  needs  thy  best  of  man.'    So  spake  my  guide. 
For  not  on  downy  plumes  nor  under  shade 
Of  canopy  reposing  fame  is  won, 

Without  which  whosoe'er  consumes  his  days 
Leaveth  such  vestige  of  himself  on  earth 
As  smoke  in  air,  or  foam  upon  the  wave." 

But  more  than  in  search  of  fame  his  Odyssey 
was  inspired  by  his  heart-hunger  for  Peace. 
This  he  discloses  throughout  all  his  records 
whether  in  prose  or  verse.  This  we  find  in  his 
great  Comedy  even  amid  the  actual  strife  por- 
trayed in  its  most  terrible  scenes.  As  it  speaki 
even  through  the  cries  and  laments  of  those 
who  have  lost  it,  so  it  speaks  in  the  traces  of 
the  age-long  conflict  stamped  on  his  face  turned 
toward  the  Heavens  in  unspeakable  adoration 

» Inferno,  XXIV,  45-50,  Caiy. 


m 


204 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INPLUBNCB 


f! 


tl 


t 


as  in  the  portrait  which  represents  him  in  his 
age,  laurel-crowned  with  all  that  fame  gives, 
and  yet  turned  with  unspeakable  longing  for 
that  Peace  which  passeth  man's  understanding. 
We  find  it  disclosed  when  on  the  way  to  the 
Seventh  Cornice  he  hears  the  voice  of  the  shin- 
ing Angel  who  calls: 

"This  way  he  goes 
Who  goes  in  search  of  Peace." 

There  is  a  story  told  of  Dante  contained  in 
what  is  known  as  The  letter  of  Frate  Ilario:  how 
one  day  at  his  monastery  of  Santa  Croce  above 
the  blue  bay  of  Spezia  the  narrator  with  some 
of  his  brother-monks  saw  a  lone  man  approach- 
ing—a stranger  to  all— and  they  questioned  him 
of  his  wishings  and  seekings  there.  And  he 
moved  not,  but  stood  silently  contemplating 
the  columns  and  arches  of  the  cloister.  And 
they  asked  him  again:  "What  he  wished  and 
whom  he  sought .?"  Then,  "slowly  turning  his 
head  and  looking  at  the  friars  and  at  me,  he 
answered:  'Peace.' "  And  presently  they  knew 
him,  for  his  fame  had  already  spread  through- 
out all  that  part  of  Italy;  so  that,  as  the  story 
goes,  the  women  in  Verona  whispered  as  he 
passed:  "There  goes  the  man  who  has  been  in 


^   DANTE  AND  HIS  TEACHING 


20$ 


Hell."  And,  says  the  narrator,  "When  he  saw 
that  I  hung  upon  his  countenance  and  listened 
to  him  with  strange  affection,  he  drew  from  his 
bosom  a  book,  did  gently  open  it  and  offered 
it  to  me,  saying:  'Sir  Friar,  here  is  a  portion  of 
my  work  which  peradventure  thou  hast  not 
seen.  This  remembrance  I  leave  with  thee. 
Forget  me  not.*" 

I  have  felt  that  possibly  Shakespeare  had  in 
mind  this  story  of  the  wanderer  coming  to  the 
monastery  gate,  when  he  brought  Wolsey  to 
such  a  door  to  say: 

"An  old  man,  broken  with  the  cares  of  State, 
Has  come  to  lay  his  weary  bones  among  you. 
Give  him  a  little  earth  for  charity." 

The  teaching  of  Dante's  great  work  was,  as 
he  himself  declares.  Righteousness.  The  argu- 
ment is,  as  he  writes  Can  Grande  della  Scala, 
the  State  of  Souls  after  Death.  The  aim  is  "to 
remove  the  living  from  the  state  of  misery  by 
directing  them  to  the  state  of  felicity."  But 
if  he  was  writing  a  great  appeal  to  the  Human 
Soul  to  seek  after  God;  he  was  also  writing  a 
great  poem.  And  to  this  he  gave  no  less  of  his 
inspired  genius  than  to  the  other.  It  is  after 
all,  not  the  Matter;  but  the  Form  in  which  the 


I 


!l 


\ 


i 


306 


DANTB  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


poet  has  pictured  this  that  has  caught  and  held 
the  heart  of  the  world.  He  has  shown  that  he 
knew  as  well  as  any  devotee  that  "Beauty  is 
its  own  excuse  for  being." 

The  Inferno  has  taken  strongest  hold  on  the 
popular  imagination  throughout  the  genera- 
tions, because  of  its  terrible  pictures;  its  fUmo 
dolore;  its  inexorable,  hopeless  infinity  of  woe. 
But  this  is  only  the  first  stage  of  the  wonder- 
ful journey — a  dreadful  and  soul-wringing  ex- 
perience, it  IS  true,  for  few  can  go  the  full 
length  with  the  Poet,  who  held  that  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  justice  of  the  punishment  would 
make  pity  a  sin.  If,  however,  one  but  keep 
with  him  and  his  guide  he  shall  with  them  come 
out  from  that  dreadful  gloom  and  see  again  the 
stars.  He  shall  bathe  in  the  "dolce  color  d'ori- 
ental  zalfiro"  and  he  shall  see  that  conquest  of 
the  Dawn  and  recognize  from  afar  the  shimmer- 
ing of  the  Sea.*  He  shall  meet  the  Heavenly 
Pilot  and  hear  the  Hundred-throated  chorus  in 
the  shining  bark  of  God's  angel  chant:  In  exitu 
Israel  de  JEgypto.  He  shall  hear  Casella  begin 
to  sing,  as  Milton  heard,  when  Dante  "woo'd 
him  to  music,"  one  of  Dante's  canzoni: 

"Amor  che  nelia  mente  mi  ragiona." 
*  Fvffdlofto,  Canto  I,  11$. 


(l#i 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TEACHING 


207 


Sordello  shall  guide  him  even  if  by  a  winding 
path  to  where,  amid  countless  flowers  that  give 
the  air  the  odor  of  a  thousand  fragrances,  em- 
bosomed in  a  dell  a  gentle  army  of  the  Great 
shall  sing,  "Salve  Regina."  Twilight  shall 
have  for  him  new  meaning  when  he  shall  have 
heard  the  hymn: 

"Ere  Daylight  fadeth" 

and  angels  from  Mary's  bosom  in  trailing  robes 
as  green  as  little  green  leaves  may  float  within 
his  view.  And  on  and  on  he  may  go  rising 
ever  to  higher  flights;  companying  with  the 
souls  who  are  journeying  toward  the  gates  of 
Paradise  through  pictures  as  wonderful  as  ever 
came  from  human  imagination  and  catch  strains 
of  music  as  divine  as  ever  sounded  in  mortal 
ears. 

"Every  line  of  the  Paradiso,"  says  Ruskin, 
is  full  of  the  most  exquisite  and  spiritual  ex- 
pressions of  Chrisrian  truth;  and  that  poem  is 
only  less  read  than  the  'Inferno';  because  it 
requires  far  greater  attention  and,  perhaps, 
for  its  full  enjoyment  a  hoHer  heart."  * 

The  Paradiso,  indeed,  is  the  highest  concep- 
tion that  the  poet's  imagination  has  ever  at- 

*  Stofifs  of  Ffnice,  II,  324. 


f 


t 


I 


i;l 


208 


VANTB  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


tained.    Its  central  idea  is  Light— The  Light 
of  the  Splendor  of  God.     Light  within  light  fills 
it.    The  Light  of  Love  that  moves  the  sun  and 
all  the  stars. 
It  begins  with: 

••The  Glory  of  Him  who  moYcth  all 
penetrates  all  the  Universe,  and  shines 
more  brightly  in  one  part,  and  elsewhere  lest. 

It  proceeds  ever  from  Light  to  Light — from 
radiance  to  radiance — from  effulgence  to  efful- 
gence— and  throughout  the  whole  course  it  is 
"  as  though  all  the  stars  of  Heaven  were  being 
poured  out  of  it." 

Dante's  great  effort  for  the  restoration  of  the 
Empire  under  ideal  conditions  as  he  imagined 
them  was,  however,  but  a  part— a  moiety  of 
his  work  for  the  regeneration  of  the  world. 
The  other  moiety  was  the  regeneration  of  the 
Church.  He  would  render  to  Caesar  the  things 
that  were  Caesar's  and  to  God  the  things  that 
were  God's.  And  if  he  devoted  to  the  former 
his  curiously  reasoned  De  Monarchia  and,  now 
and  again,  a  part  of  a  Canto,  he  devoted  his 
greatest  work  to  the  preaching  of  the  Word, 
and  to  the  regeneration  of  the  Church  as  its 
elect  on  earth. 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TEACHING 


2og 


In  Religion  he  was  the  most  orthodox  of 
Churchmen;  but  when  it  came  to  the  tempo- 
ralities he  was  the  sternest  of  Puritans.  He  de- 
nounced the  enemies  of  Boniface  VIII  for  cru- 
cifying the  Lord  afresh  in  the  imprisonment  and 
insults  to  the  Pope;  yet  when  Boniface  at- 
tempted to  get  possession  of  the  Capital  of 
Tuscany  he  withstood  him  as  his  bitterest  foe. 
He  declared  that  his  royal  ally  and  agent  had 
entered  Florence  with  "the  spear  of  Judas," 
and  later  he  drew  against  Boniface's  ambition 
and  avarice  the  bitterest  indictment  ever  drawn 
against  a  temporal  ruler. 

He  left  in  Italy  his  high  authority  for  the 
supreme  power  of  the  Pope  in  matters  spiritual 
—he  left  him  sole  master  of  Peter's  Keys;  but 
also  he  left  an  equal  authority  against  his  as- 
sumption of  the  coveted  and  perilous  Tem- 
poral power.  His  teaching  on  obedience  to 
God's  Law  has  rung  in  every  Italian  church 
and  sounded  in  every  Italian  heart  for  six  hun- 
dred years,  and  so  in  Italian  minds  has  re- 
mained his  teaching  of  the  separation  of  the 
Spiritual  and  Temporal  power.  Both  have 
sunk  deep  into  the  heart  of  Italy  and  both 
have  borne  rich  fruit.  Italy  is  one  in  loyalty 
to  him,  the  noble  ruler  whose  arms  are  on  the 


II 


I 


I 


Hi 


If 


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I 


4 


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flO 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


flag  that  flies  over  the  Quirinal,  and  one  in 
spiritual  loyalty  to  him,  the  Holy  Father  who 
rules  the  Church  from  the  Seat  of  St.  Peter. 
But  for  Dante  it  is  possible  that  neither  might 
be  to-day  in  Rome. 

Upborne  by  his  adoration  of  the  Divine  Wis- 
dom he  was  lifted,  like  St.  Paul,  to  the  Seventh 
Heaven — in  what  form,  "who  can  tell?"  and 
saw  glories  which  even  he  could  not  describe; 
but  what  he  wrote  lifted  the  world  and  sent 
it  forward  with  a  new  conception  of  man's 
duty,  and  a  new  faith  in  the  foundation  prin- 
ciples of  Religion.  Think  you  it  did  not  re- 
quire courage  in  those  days  to  picture  prelates 
and,  far  more.  Popes  in  Hell  ? 

Two  centuries  before,  the  Emperor  himself 
had  come  to  Canossa  to  kneel  barefoot  and,  in 
a  penitent's  shirt,  to  crave  pardon  of  a  Pope, 
and  within  a  century  a  King  of  England  had 
walked  barefoot  doing  penance  at  a  Pope's 
command.  And  the  Pope  yet  had  power  to 
bring  Charles  of  Valois  to  quell  Florence  and 
maintain  those  who  condemned  Dante  to  be 
burnt  alive,  and  to  crown  Charles  King  of 
Sicily. 

Yet,  if  Dante  "damned  to  everlasting  fame" 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TEACHING 


axx 


those  whom  he  deemed  the  Enemies  of  Italy 
even  though  they  might  have  worn  the  Mitre 
and  held  the  Keys  of  St.  Peter,  he  was  the 
most  faithful  of  the  Faithful  to  the  fundamental 
doctrines  of  the  Church  and  more  than  Pope 
or  Curia  he  established  the  Italian  people  in 
the  truths  of  Christianity.  What  the  Bishops 
inculcated  in  their  pastorals,  he  with  the 
parish-priest  taught  in  the  parish-church  and 
the  home. 

Presentation  has  been  made  of  Dante's  stand 
upon  the  division  between  the  Divine  and  Su- 
preme Spiritual  Authority  of  the  Vicar  of 
Christ  to  feed  and  guide  His  flock  and  the 
Temporal  authority  which  he  unrighteously  as- 
serted. He  had  argued  on  this  theme  power- 
fully in  his  prose  essays.  In  his  Comedy  he  de- 
clares it  as  a  prophet  and  messenger  of  God, 
with  an  authority  superior  to  that  of  the 
holder  of  St.  Peter's  Keys  himself.  He  is  not 
now  addressing  his  conclusions  to  Florence  or 
even  to  an  Emperor.  He  is  speaking  to  man- 
kind and  with  the  power  of  a  final  Judge.  It 
is  no  longer  argument,  it  is  judgment. 

Even  in  the  beginning — ^in  the  dusky  wood 
where  he  is  lost  at  the  very  start  of  his  strange 


i 


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li 


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n  ; 


? 

' 


■ 


I 


II 


9ia 


Pili^rrB  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


journey,  he  finds  himself  dismayed  by  the  lean 
ind  hungry  wolf,  the  Avarice  of  the  Churchy 
who 

"E  molte  gent«  fe'  gia  viver  grant.** 
''Alto  had  many  made  ere  now  to  live  forlorn.** 

The  guilt  of  Simony  he  charges  in  imperish- 
able pictures  against  the  Church,  scoring  the 
Church's  worldly  head  himself:  as  when  in 
the  eighth  circle  he  finds  Nicholas  III  stuck 
upside  down,  and  Nicholas,  hearing,  but  not 
seeing  his  interlocutor,  cries  out: 

**Se'  tu  gii  costi  ritto, 
te'  tu  gia  costi  ritto,  Bonifazio  ? 
di  parecchi  anni  mi  menti  lo  scritto 
Se'  tu  ^  tosto  di  quell'  aver  sazio, 
per  lo  qual  non  temesti  torre  a  inganno 
la  bella  donna,  e  di  poi  fame  strazio  ?  "* 

**  Art  thou  there  already  ? 
Alt  thou  already  there,  O  Boniface  ? 
By  several  years  the  writing  lied  to  mo-* 
Art  thou  so  early  sated  holding  that 
For  which  thou  fearedst  not 
To  fraudulently  seize  the  lovely  Lady 
And  then  make  slaughter  of  her.' 


tff 


Of  the  avarice  of  the  Church  he  speaks  also 
in  the  Vllth  Canto  of  the  Inferno,  where  hav- 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TEACHING 


a»3 


ing  descended  into  the  Fourth  Circle  of  Hell 
he  finds  the  Avaricious  and  the  Prodigal 
doomed  to  one  punishment,  dashing  weights 
against  each  other  ceaselessly  with  cries:  "Why 
boldest  thou  so  fast.?"  "And  why  castest 
thou  away?"  And  among  them  he  finds 
"both  Popes  and  Cardinals  o'er  whom  Avarice 
dominion  absolute  maintains." 

In  the  XlXth  Canto  he  contrasts  the  de- 
mand made  of  St.  Peter;  "Follow  me,"  with 
the  avarice  of  Pope  Nicholas  III  and  charges 
against  the  Pope 

"Your  avarice 
O'ercasts  the  world  with  mourning,  under  foot 
Treading  the  good  and  raising  bad  men  up." 

And  then  he  utters  his  lament  against  Con- 
stantine  and  his  alleged  gift  to  Pope  Sylvester 
on  which  the  Papacy  based  its  claim  to  Tem- 
poral Power. 


« 


Ah  I  Constantine,  to  how  much  ill  gave  birth 
Not  thy  conversion  but  the  plenteous  dower 
Which  the  first  wealthy  Father  gained  from  thee.** 


In  the  XVIth  Canto  (line  109  and  seq,)  of 
the  Purgatorio,  through  Marco  Lombardo,  he 
charges  the  unhappy  condition  of  the  times  to 


^li 


I. 


!iil 


f 


III 


214 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


the  Avarice  of  the  Church  for  Temporal  power, 
which  "hastened  the  world  to  *evil.' 


»» 


"  Rome  that  turned  it  unto  good 
Was  wont  to  boast  two  suns  whose  several  beamt 
Cast  light  on  either  way;  the  world's  and  God's. 
One  since  hath  quenched  the  other,  and  the  Sword 
Is  grafted  on  the  Crook.  .  .  • 

The  Church  of  Rome 
Mixing  two  Governments  that  ill  assort* 
Hath  missed  her  footing,  fallen  into  the  mire^ 
And  there  herself  and  burden  much  defiled." 

— Cary. 

In  the  XXVIIth  Canto  of  the  Paradiso, 
where  Dante  is  approaching  the  ninth  Heaven, 
St.  Peter  flushing  red  with  indignation  apos- 
trophises the  avarice  of  his  successors,  espe- 
cially of  Boniface: 

•• — My  place 
He  who  usurps  on  earth  (my  place,  aye,  mine 
Which  in  the  presence  of  the  Son  of  God 
Is  void),  the  same  hath  made  my  cemetery 
A  common  sewer  of  puddle  and  of  blood." 

"No  purpose  was  of  ours 
That  on  the  right  hand  of  our  successors. 
Part  of  the  Christian  people  should  be  set. 
And  part  upon  their  left;  nor  that  the  keys. 
Which  were  vouchsafed  me,  should  for  ensign  serve 
Unto  the  banners,  that  do  levy  war 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TEACHING 


aiS 


On  the  baptized;  nor  I,  for  sigil-mark. 

Set  upon  sold  and  lying  privileges: 

Which  makes  me  oft  to  bicker  and  turn  red. 

In  shepherd's  clothing,  greedy  wolves  below 

Range  wide  o'er  all  the  pastures.    Arm  of  God  I 

Why  longer  sleep'st  thou  ?" 

— Cflfy. 

It  will  cause,  then,  little  surprise  to  learn  that 
some  of  Dante's  works  were  placed  on  the  Index 
by  the  Ecclesiastical  authorities  and  were  ordered 
to  be  burnt.  But  this  was  some  twenty-five 
years  after  his  death  and  they  had  too  firm  a 
hold  on  the  Italian  mind  to  suflFer  permanent 
damage. 

Nor  will  one,  knowing  this,  be  surprised  to 
know  that  many  critics  and  commentators  have 
found  serious  fault  with  Dante — some  have 
indeed  reviled  him.  He  has  been  characterized 
as  "a  Reformer";  **a  bawdy  historiographer"; 
as  "extravagant,  absurd,  disgusting";  as  "a 
Methodist  Parson  in  Bedlam";  as  "one  of  the 
most  obscure  of  writers";  as  "a  fire-and-smoke 
poet";  as  "a  lustreless  glow-worm";  as  "a 
talkative  showman";  as  "a  great  master  of  the 
disgusting,"  etc.,  etc.,  while  others  have  given 
him  every  virtue  and  grace  and  compared  him 
with  the  greatest  poets  and  literary  masters 
of  every  race  and  every  age. 


Ill 


4 


|i! 


I  ' 


M 


I- 


3l6 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


After  this  we  may  not  even  be  surprised  to 
learn  that  his  authorship  of  the  Divine  Comedy 
has  been  questioned,  and  that  the  greatest  epic 
of  Modern  times  has  been  attributed  to  "an 
obscure  writer  of  the  XVth  Century  who  .  .  . 
published  that  work  under  the  name  of  Dante, 
a  well-known  Author."  *  But  it  should  be  said 
that  the  same  discoverer  also  states  that  the 
iEneid  was  written  by  a  Benedictine  Monk  in 
the  Xlllth  Century.  What  a  pity  it  is  that 
this  Clerical  investigator  lived  too  early  to  lend 
his  authority  to  the  theory  of  the  Baconian 
Cipher ! 

The  chief  of  the  Anti-Dantists  was  Voltaire 
—whether  it  was  owing  to  a  Gallic  disposition 
to  undervalue  Italian  work  and  go  counter  to 
Italian  enthusiasm,  or  whether  it  was  Dante's 
fundamental  solemnity  and  profound  Christian 
faith — ^Voltaire,  who  in  his  earlier  work  merely 
ignored  and  passed  by  the  work  of  the  great 
Florentine  Master,  the  Father  of  Tuscan — 
indeed,  of  Italian  Poetry;  later  on  grew  to  be 
his  most  unmeasured  critic  and  attempted  to 
do  by  his  wit  and  ridicule  what  he  had  not  been 
able  to  effect  by  serious  discussion.    He,  how- 

•  Father  Hardoain'f  "Doutet  sur  I' Age  dc  Dante,**  dted,  DanU 
in  English  Literature,  I,  p.  217. 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TEACHING 


217 


ever,  failed  completely  in  his  purpose.  He 
aroused  a  storm  of  indignant  protest  from 
Italian  writers  domiciled  in  England,  whose 
polemical  spirit  was  not  less  intemperate  than 
his  own  and  he  not  only  failed  in  any  purpose 
to  lower  the  prestige  of  the  great  "first  Chris- 
tian poem,"  if  such  he  had,  but  actually  brought 
It  into  a  note  which  it  might  not  have  had  in 
England  for  years  to  come  but  for  the  interest 
excited  by  the  bitter  controversy  that  arose 
between  him  and  Rolli,  Baretti,  Martinelli 
and  others.  These  showed  up  Voltaire's  igno- 
rance of  his  subject  in  a  way  that  touched  him 
to  the  quick  and  the  close  was  mere  vulgar 
vituperation  that  diminished  Voltaire's  fame 
and  substituted,  for  the  time  being,  mere 
notoriety. 

It  would  appear  impossible  that  there  could 
be  much  sympathy  between  the  railing  philos- 
opher and  the  successful  litterateur  and  financier 
who  corresponded  with  Kings  and  Savants,  and 
the  bowed  scholar-poet,  the  gloomy  exile  who 
trod  so  bitterly  the  stairs  of  arrogant  patrons 
who  complained  that  he  did  not  amuse  them. 
Let  him  who  thinks  strange  this  want  of  sym- 
pathy look  at  the  face  of  Voltaire  when  he  was 
the  most  famous  literary  man  on  the  continent 


•I 
f 


f 


ii 


!fti 


si8 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


of  Europe  and  then  gaze  on  Dante's  face  and 
he  will  see  that  it  was  impossible  to  have  been 
otherwise — as  impossible  as  to  harmonize  Pagan 
Scepticism  and  Christian  Faith. 

It  has  become  popular  in  our  own  time  to 
study  and  analyze  a  man's  feeling,  tempera- 
menty  psychic  personality.  We  term  it,  when 
professionally  analyzed,  psychology,  and  we 
speak  of  it  as  though  the  science  of  Psychology 
were  something  new  in  our  time.  But  it  is  as 
old  as  Solomon,  as  Plato,  Aristotle,  and  other 
Greek  Philosophers.  In  ages  following  theirs 
St.  Paul  went  deeply  into  it  and  other  Saints 
of  lesser  note  followed  him.  St.  Augustine  ana- 
lyzed the  Soul's  progress.  But  neither  before 
nor  since  has  any  one  gone  so  deeply  and  with 
such  complete  analysis  into  his  own  psychology 
and,  by  consequence,  into  universal  Psychology, 
as  Dante. 

From  the  beginning  when  Love  expanded  his 
soul  he  presents  his  soul  as  bare  as  Marsyas, 
whom  Apollo's  breath  drew  out  of  his  skin. 
Like  a  Psychic  Anatomist  he  pierced  to  the 
soul's  inmost  centre  and  in  prose  and  verse  has 
laid  bare  its  every  emotion;  its  every  passion. 
It  is  in  part  this  which  interwoven  with  other 
elements  differentiates  Dante  from  other  poets 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TEACHING 


319 


in  greater  or  less  degiee — from  all  save  the 
very  greatest  in  an  immeasurable  degree. 

Of  the  symbolism  of  Dante,  we  can  scarcely 
speak  in  the  compass  permitted   us.     Whole 
volumes  have  been  written  on  this  one  aspect 
of  his  writings.*     It  embraces  the  whole  body 
of  his  work;  pervades  its  every  part;  lurks  in 
every  turn,  and  peeps  forth  so  unexpectedly 
and  tantalizingly  from  pictures,  characters,  and 
even    phrases,    that    Dante-students    become 
mystified  and  tend  to  discover  a  mystical  sym- 
bolism in  even  the  simplest  and  plainest  decla- 
rations.   Yet  there  is   enough   symbolism  to 
render  any  forced  interpretation  unnecessary, 
and  often  they  pile  one  on  another.     For  Dante 
was  at  once  a  mystic  and  a  master  of  the  art 
of  expressing  two  ideas  at  once — ^the  particular 
and  the  general,  the  concrete  and  the  abstract. 
He  began  it  as  a  youth — and  it  is  woven  inex- 
tricably into  the  Vita  Nuova.     He  developed 
it  in  the  Convito,  or  Banquet;  and  he  gave  it 
full  rein  in  the  Comedy,  where  it  starts  with 
the  first  line  in  the  Sdva  oscura  and  thence- 
forth throughout  the  entire  course  attends  his 
footsteps  like  another  shadow — almost  indeed 
like  a  substantial  guide  at  Virgil's  side,  telling 

» C/.  Symbolism  of  DanU,  J.  B.  Fletcher. 


A 

I 
\ 

!    > 


I 


i 


4 


\\U 


i' 


3  20 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLVBNCB 


in  mysterious  undertone  the  connection  be- 
tween that  which  passed  before  them  in  pan- 
oramic vision  and  the  militant  life  of  the  strug- 
gling soul  still  encased  in  its  mortal  frame. 

It,  in  fact,  so  underlies  the  entire  volume  of 
his  work  that  some  commentators  have  even 
questioned  whether  there  ever  was  a  Beatrice 
in  the  flesh,  and  have  found  in  her  only  Dante's 
personification  of  Divine  Wisdom  and  Grace, 
a  conclusion  which  appears  too  absurd  to  be 
seriously  discussed.  If  ever  a  woman  shone 
in  the  flesh  to  a  lover's  eyes,  it  was  Bea- 
trice Portinari;  if  ever  a  lover  sang  from  his 
heart  to  a  beautiful  mistress  it  was  Dante  to 
Beatrice  Portinari.  He  sang  love  to  her  in  a 
hundred  keys,  and  even  after  he  had  exalted 
her  to  a  mysdcal  symbol  drawing  him  to 
Heaven  with  divine  compassion,  when  he  finds 
her  in  Paradise,  to  which  the  bare  mention  of 
her  name  by  Virgil  had  ever  given  him  strength 
to  press  on  even  through  the  final  circles  of 
Purgatory  (Canto  XXVII),  he  had  not  eyes 
save  for  her.  Her  smile;  her  eyes;  her  few 
smiled  words  made  him  feel  within  as  Glaucus 
felt  who  tasting  the  herb,  was  made  in  the  sea  a 
fellow  of  the  other  Gods.    No.     Beatrice  in 


*> 


DANTE  AND  HIS  TEACHING 


231 


Paradise  was  the  symbol  of  Divine  Grace  and 
Love,  but  also  she  was  the  symbol  and  more 
than  the  symbol  of  that  Love  which  had  in- 
spired Dante  from  the  beginning  when  it  first 
entered  his  soul:  a  Love  which  thenceforth, 
however  it  may  for  a  brief  period  have  hidden 
itself  while  Dante  strayed  with  Forese  Donati 
amid  less-exalted  pleasures,  yet  never  had  been 
lost  and  became  so  pure  and  so  uplifted  that 
the  border  between  it  and  the  Spiritual  Love 
which  led  him  into  Paradise  was  passed  with- 
out knowing  when  it  came. 

I  have  spoken  of  Dante  in  connection  with 
the  modern  trend  of  so-called  sociological  fic- 
tion; of  Dante's  power  of  analyzing  the  human 
soul.  There  is  a  branch  of  this  form  of  so- 
called  sociological  fiction  which  of  late  years, 
professing  to  deal  with  love,  deals  rather  with 
her  baser  sister.  To  apply  the  name  Love  is  an 
irreverence  to  as  holy  an  emotion  as  can  in- 
spire the  human  heart.  Those  who  soil  their 
minds  with  such  so-called  literature  I  would 
point  to  Dante's  Love.  In  all  the  great  drama 
which  he  has  unfolded  to  our  gaze  and  in  which 
Love  is  the  controlling  power,  and  in  which, 
although  it  may  have  only  stood  in  the  wings,  it 


«• 


I 


H 


333 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


is  ever  on  the  stage  or  close  at  hand,  there  is 
not  a  word,  not  a  thought,  not  a  suggestion 
which  is  not  as  clean  of  earth  as  Beatrice's 
brow. 

**E  vidi  le  sue  lud  tanto  inert 
tanto  gioconde." 

"And  I  beheld  her  eyes  so  limpid 
And  so  joyous."* 

This  too  after  she  had  rebuked  him  for  gazing 
but  on  her;  or  as  he  phrases  it: 

**Vincendo  me  col  lume  d'un  sorriso, 
ella  mi  dissi,  *Volgiti  ed  ascolta, 
ch^  non  pur  nei  miei  occhi  e  Paradiso.*  '*• 

••Overcoming  me  with  the  light  of  a  smile 
She  said  to  me,  *Tum  and  listen, 
For  Heaven  is  not  only  in  my  eyes.*'* 

t  Paradiso,  Canto  XVIII.  55- 
•Paradiso,  Canto  XVIII,  19-at. 


VII 

DANTE'S  AND  ITALIAN  NATIONALITY 

Boccaccio  not  only  tells  us  how  the  first 
seven  Cantos  of  the  Comedy  were  preserved 
through  the  care  of  Dante's  wife,  but  he  tells 
a  story  regarding  the  loss  for  a  time  and  the 
miraculous  recovery  of  the  last  thirteen  Cantos 
of  the  Paradiso.  It  appears  that  at  the  time 
of  Dante's  death  these  last  thirteen  cantos  were 
not  to  be  found,  so  that  it  was  supposed  that 
he  had  left  his  great  work  unfinished  and,  says 
Boccaccio: 

"The  friends  Dante  left  behind  him,  his 
sons  and  his  disciples,  having  searched  at  many 
times  and  for  several  months  everything  of  his 
writing,  to  see  whether  he  had  left  any  remain- 
ing cantos;  his  friends  generally  being  much 
mortified  that  God  had  not  at  least  lent  him 
so  long  to  the  world,  that  he  might  have  been 
able  to  complete  the  small  remaining  part  of 
his  work;  and  having  sought  so  long  and  never 
found   it,  they  remained   in  despair.     Jacopo 

and  Piero  were  sons  of  Dante,  and  each  of 

223 


324 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


them  being  a  rhymer,  they  were  induced  by 
the  persuasions  of  their  friends  to  endeavor  to 
complete,  as  far  as  they  were  able,  their  father's 
work,  in  order  that  it  should  not  remain  im- 
perfect; when  to  Jacopo,  who  was  more  eager 
about  it  than  his  brother,  there  appeared  a 
wonderful  vision,  which  not  only  induced  him 
to  abandon  such  presumptuous  folly,  but 
showed  him  where  the  thirteen  cantos  were 
which  were  wanting  to  the  Divina  Commedia, 
and  which  they  had  not  been  able  to  find. 

"A  worthy  man  of  Ravenna,  whose  name 
was  Pier  Giardino,  and  who  had  long  been 
Dante's  disciple,  grave  in  his  manner  and 
worthy  of  credit,  relates  that  after  the  eighth 
month  from  the  day  of  his  master's  death,  there 
came  to  his  house  before  dawn  Jacopo  di  Dante, 
who  told  him  that  that  night,  while  he  was 
asleep,  his  father  Dante  had  appeared  to  him, 
clothed  in  the  purest  white,  and  his  face  re- 
splendent with  an  extraordinary  light;  that  he, 
Jacopo,  asked  him  if  he  lived,  and  that  Dante 
replied:  'Yes,  but  in  the  true  life,  not  our  life.' 
Then  he,  Jacopo,  asked  him  if  he  had  com- 
pleted his  work  before  passing  into  the  true 
life,  and  if  he  had  done  so,  what  had  become  of 
that  part  of  it  which  was  missing,  which  they 


DANTE'S  AND  ITALIAN  NATIONALITY    225 

none  of  them  had  been  able  to  find.  To  this 
Dante  seemed  to  answer:  'Yes,  I  finished  it'; 
and  then  took  him,  Jacopo,  by  the  hand,  and 
led  him  into  that  chamber  in  which  he,  Dante, 
had  been  accustomed  to  sleep  when  he  lived  in 
this  Hfe,  and,  touching  one  of  the  walls,  he  said : 
'What  you  have  sought  for  so  much  is  here'; 
and  at  these  words  both  Dante  and  sleep  fled 
from  Jacopo  at  once.  For  which  reason  Jacopo 
said  he  could  not  rest  without  coming  to  explain 
what  he  had  seen  to  Pier  Giardino,  in  order 
that  they  should  go  together  and  search  out 
the  place  thus  pointed  out  to  him,  which  he 
retained  excellently  in  his  memory,  and  to  see 
whether  this  had  been  pointed  out  by  a  true 
spirit,  or  a  false  delusion.  For  which  purpose, 
though  it  was  still  far  in  the  night,  they  set 
off  together,  and  went  to  the  house  in  which 
Dante  resided  at  the  time  of  his  death.  Hav- 
ing called  up  its  present  owner,  he  admitted 
them,  and  they  went  to  the  place  thus  pointed 
out;  there  they  found  a  mat  fixed  to  the  wall, 
as  they  had  always  been  used  to  see  it  in  past 
days;  they  lifted  it  gently  up,  when  they 
found  a  little  window  in  the  wall,  never  be- 
fore seen  by  them,  nor  did  they  even  know 
that  it  was  there.    In  it  they  found  several 


\^ 


n 


4t 


i 

I, 


226  DANTB  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 

writings,  all  mouldy  from  the  dampness  of  the 
walls,  and  had  they  remained  there  longer,  in  a 
little  while  they  would  have  crumbled  away. 
Having  thoroughly  cleared  away  the  mould, 
they  found  them  to  be  the  thirteen  cantos 
that  had  been  wanting  to  complete  the  Corn- 
media."^ 

Among  the  works  accredited  by  many  com- 
mentators to  Dante  are  also  a  poetical  version 
of  The  Creed  in  terza  rima,  and  a  version  of  the 
seven  Penitential  Psalms,  and  there  is  a  story 
of  Dante  connected  with  this  version  of  the 
Creed,  which  whether  apocryphal  or  not,  would 
appear  natural  enough  in  view  of  Dante's  burn- 
ing criticism  of  the  powerful  Hierachy  of  the 
church.  It  runs  as  follows:  "When  Dante  was 
writing  his  book  many  people  who  could  not 
understand  it  said  that  it  was  contrary  to  the 

Christian  Faith Now  at  Ravenna  there 

was  a  learned  Franciscan  friar,  who  was  an  in- 
quisitor. This  man,  having  heard  of  Dante's 
fame,  became  desirous  of  making  his  acquamt- 
ance,  with  the  intention  of  finding  out  whether 
he  were  a  heretic  or  no.  And  one  morning,  as 
Dante  was  in  church,  the  inquisitor  entered, 
and  Dante  being  pointed  out  to  him,  he  sent 
for  him.     Dante  reverentially  went  to  him,  and 

» DanU  Alighim,  by  Paget  Toynbee,  pp.  207-108. 


*w( 


DANTE*S  AND  ITALIAN  NATIONAUTY    227 


was  asked  by  the  inquisitor  if  he  were  the 
Dante  who  claimed  to  have  visited  Hell,  Pur- 
gatory, and  Paradise.  Dante  replied:  *I  am 
Dante  Alighieri  of  Florence.'  Whereupon  the 
inquisitor  angrily  said:  'You  go  writing  can- 
zoni,  and  sonnets,  and  idle  tales,  when  you 
would  have  done  much  better  to  write  a 
learned  work,  resting  on  the  foundations  of 
the  Church  of  God,  instead  of  giving  your  time 
to  such  like  rubbish,  which  may  one  of  these 
days  serve  you  out  as  you  deserve.'  When 
Dante  wished  to  reply  to  the  inquisitor,  the 
latter  said:  'This  is  not  the  time;  but  on  such 
a  day  I  will  see  you  again,  and  I  will  inquire 
into  this  matter.'  Dante  thereupon  answered 
that  he  should  be  well  pleased  for  this  to  be 
done;  and  taking  leave  of  the  inquisitor,  he 
went  home  to  his  own  room  and  there  and  then 
wrote  out  the  composition  known  as  the  Little 
Creed,  which  creed  is  an  affirmation  of  the 
whole  Christian  Faith."  The  account  goes  on 
to  say  that  when  Dante  gave  his  composition 
to  the  inquisitor,  the  latter  was  so  confounded 
that  Dante  "came  ofF  safe  and  sound.  And 
from  that  day  forward  Dante  and  the  inquisitor 
became  great  friends."  * 

» DanU  Alighieri,  by  Paget  Toynbcc,  citing  Papanti,  op.  eiL; 
PP-  47-49. 


328 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


DANTE'S  AND  ITALIAN  NATIONALITY    229 


I; 


This  Credo  or  Professione  di  Fede  consists 
of  a  paraphrase  of  the  Apostles'  Creed,  the  ten 
Commandments,  the  Pater  Noster,  and  the 
Ave  Maria,  together  with  reflections  on  the 
seven  Sacraments,  and  seven  Deadly  Sins. 
There  are  over  forty  manuscripts  of  the  Creed, 
the  majority  of  which  are  attributed  to  Dante, 
chough  in  a  few  it  is  assigned  to  Antonio  da 
Ferrara;  and  it  was  first  printed  at  Rome  about 
1476,  and  was  reprinted  as  an  appendix  to  the 
edition  of  the  Divine  Comedy  published  at 
Venice  by  Vendelin  da  Spira  in  1477.  The 
Seven  Penitential  Psalms  were  first  printed 
about  1475  at  Venice.^ 

In  addition  to  Dante's  recognized  works 
there  is  attributed  to  him  a  treatise  entitled 
the  Quaestio  de  Aqua  et  Terra,  the  authen- 
ticity of  which  is  disputed;  the  object  of  which 
was  to  show  that  according  to  Dante,  "water 
cannot  in  any  part  of  its  circumference  be 
higher  than  the  land,  together  with  the  reasons 
for  this  connection." 

And  now  of  the  true  measuring  of  the  great 
Commedia.  First  we  must  take  it,  as  he  tells 
in  the  letter  to  Can  Grande  della  Scala  that  it 
must  be  taken,  in  two  senses;  it  must  be  inter- 

*  DanU  Mighieri,  by  Paget  Toynbce,  pp.  25^260. 


preted  in  a  literal  sense  and  in  an  anagogical 
sense,  and  he  illustrates  this  double  sense  by  the 
example  from  the  psalm:  In  exitu  Israel  de 
Mgypto  domus  Jacob  de  populo  barharo  fecta 
est  Judcea  sanctificatio  ejus  Israel  potestas  ejus; 
for  he  adds  if  we  look  only  at  the  literal  sense 
it  signifies  the  going  out  of  the  children  of 
Israel  from  Egypt  in  the  time  of  Moses;  if 
at  the  anagogical,  it  signifies  our  redemption 
through  Christ;  if  at  the  moral,  it  signifies  the 
conversion  of  the  soul  from  the  grief  and  misery 
of  sin  to  a  state  of  grace,  and  if  at  the  anagogi- 
cal, it  signifies  the  passage  of  the  blessed  soul 
from  the  bondage  of  this  corruption  to  the  free- 
dom of  the  eternal  glory.  So  also  the  Com- 
media must  be  taken  as  a  beautiful  poem  and 
as  a  wonderful  exposition  of  the  soul's  experi- 
ence in  its  redemption  through  Christ. 

Lowell  has  a  fine  analysis  of  Dante's  work  and 
place  in  the  procession  o(  Modern  Literature 
and  of  Modern  Thought.  "Indeed,"  says  he, 
"as  Marvell's  drop  of  dew  mirrored  the  whole 
firmament;  so  we  find  in  the  Commedia  the 
image  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  the  sentimental 
gyneolatry  of  Chivalry,  which  was  at  best  but 
skin-deep,  is  lifted  in  Beatrice  to  an  ideal,  a 
universal  plane.     It  is  the  same  with  Catholi- 


ajo 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


DANTE'S  AND  ITALIAN  NATIONALITY    23 x 


'f^^' 


cism,  with  imperialism,  with  scholastic  philos- 
ophy; and  nothing  is  more  wonderful  than  the 
power  of  absorption  and  assimilation  in  this 
man,  who  could  take  up  into  himself  the  world 
that  then  was,  and  reproduce  it  with  such  cos- 
mopolitan truth  to  human  nature  and  to  his 
own  individuality,  as  to  reduce  all  contempo- 
rary history  to  mere  comment  on  his  vision." 
Lowell  has  further  observed  that  Dante's  great 
poem  is  the  first  which  has  as  its  theme  man 
and  not  a  man,  and  that  while  the  poem  is 
"limited  by  a  form  of  classical  severity  ...  he 
sums  up  in  himself  the  two  schools  of  modern 
poetry  which  had  preceded  him  and  while 
essentially  lyrical  in  his  subject  is  epic  in  the 
handling  of  it."    An  admirable  statement. 

Carlyle  in  his  DanU  and  the  Divine  Comedy 
reckons  Dante  "one  of  the  greatest  men  that 
ever  lived."  And  of  the  Divine  Comedy  he  de- 
clares that  there  are  few  things  that  exist  worth 
comparing  to  it.  iEschylus,  Dante,  Shake- 
speare— one  really  cannot  add  another  greater 
name  to  these?  Catholicism  and  Loyalty 
were,  he  says,  ever  with  him;  accordingly,  he 
thinks  that  "when  all  records  of  Catholicism 
shall  have  passed  away;  when  the  Vatican 
shall  have  crumbled  into  dust  and  St.  Peter's 


and  Strasburg  Minster  shall  be  no  more;  for 
thousands  of  years  to  come  Catholicism  will 
survive  in  this  sublime  epic  of  antiquity." 


./ 


/ 


y 


^ 


i' 


^'i 


DANTE  AND  ITALIAN  ASPIRATION         233 


VIII 

DANTE  AND  ITALIAN  ASPIRATION 

And  as  Dante  transmitted  to  his  fellow 
countrymen  in  regions  which,  for  all  his  travels 
he  never  dreamed  of,  a  National  Consciousness, 
so  he  conferred  on  them  and  on  us  who  are  not 
Italians  other  beneficence.  He  inculcated  the 
great  idea  that  there  inheres  in  political  prob- 
lems a  moral  essence;  he  taught  that  the  aim 
as  well  as  the  essential  basis  of  all  justified 
Government  is  justice — not  the  execution  of 
unjust  laws;  but  absolute  justice  for  all.  In 
this  he  was  the  forerunner  of  Montesquieu,  of 
Grotius  and  PufFendorf;  of  JeflFerson;  of  Maz- 
zini.  As  deeply  religious  as  any  Father  of  the 
Church  he  nevertheless  taught,  as  we  have 
seen,  with  irrefutable  reasoning  the  separation 
of  the  Spiritual  and  the  Temporal  power,  of 
Church  and  State,  and  it  was  his  doctrine  that 
Mazzini  carried  forward  to  its  ultimate  con- 
clusion. He  was  the  inspiration  of  the  whole 
band  of  patriots  who  rescued   Italy  from   a 

tyranny  as  supreme  as  ever  ravined  on  her 

232 


vitals  in  Dante's  own  time.  If  Dante  chose 
his  "good  Frederick"  or  Henry  to  carry  out  his 
scheme,  it  was  not  because  he  loved  an  Em- 
peror per  se;  but  because  he  thought  him  the 
fittest  instrument  for  the  great  work  of  com- 
posing the  distresses  and  recouping  the  dis- 
asters of  Christendom  and  especially  of  Italy. 
And  though,  like  Carducci,  we  might  cheerfully 
have  wished  to  strike  off  his  Emperor's  crown 
and  head,  like  him  we  follow  the  poet  from  the 
setting  to  the  rising  sun. 

But  not  merely  did  he  inspire  the  National 
Consciousness  of  Italy  and  breathe  into  it  an 
immortal  spirit;  he  laid  down  the  confines  of 
Italy  according  to  what  he  deemed  and  what 
Italians  since  have  deemed  her  Natural  bound- 
aries: boundaries  which,  though  for  his  own 
purposes,  a  great  Ruler  actually  gave  her  for  a 
brief  period  and  which,  at  least,  mainly  she 
has  attained  after  six  hundred  years.  During 
the  World  War,  Dante's  vision  of  an  Italy 
rounded  out  and  established  and  Napoleon's 
actual  delimitation  of  her  boundary  from  the 
Stelvio  to  the  Adriatic  were  constantly  held  up 
to  the  Italian  People  as  their  right.  And  but 
now  in  a  great  International  Political  Con- 
ference, one  of  the  most  eminent  of  Italy's 


"  If  1 


ill 


1^ 


•34 


VANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


Statesmen,  one  of  her  abfest  Ministers  cited 
Dante  as  final  authority  on  this  very  point.* 
Not  that  Dante  was  an  Authority  on  Interna- 
tional Law;  but  that  he  was  the  voice  of  Italy 
—of  Immortal  Italy,  speaking  with  the  au- 
thority of  complete  knowledge  of  her  past  and 
with  complete  knowledge  of  the  principles  of 
Justice  to  Italy  and,  therefore,— as  Dante  felt, 
as  Signor  Tittoni  feels,  as  all  Italians  feel,— 
to  the  world. 

There  is  nothing  that  I  am  aware  of  in  Litera- 
ture outside  of  the  Law  with  Israel  and  the 
Koran  with  Islam  that  has  the  compelling 
sanction  of  Dante  with  the  Italian  People. 

During  the  great  war  we  find  the  Italians 
after  six  hundred  years  citing  Dante  as  final 
high  authority  for  Italy's  right  to  her  Alpine 

bulwarks. 
It  is  in  his  story  of  the  founding  of  Mantua 

where  he  tells^  how: 

"Suso  in  Italia  bella  giace  up  laco 
a  pie  dcir  alpe,  die  scrra  Lamagna 
sopra  TiralU,  c*ha  nome  Benaco." 

"Up  there  in  lovely  Italy  lies  a  lake 
At  the  foot  of  the  Alps  that  lock  out  Gennany 
Above  the  Tyrol;  it  has  the  name  Benaco." 
«Tommaso  Tittoni.  *  Inferno,  XX,  6i,  etc 


n 


DANTE  AND  ITALIAN  ASPIRATION         235 


"Per  mille  fonti,  credo,  e  piu  si  bagna, 
tra  Garda  e  Val  Camonica,  Apennino 
deir  acqua  che  nel  detto  lago  stagna."  « 

"Twixt  Garda  and  the  Val  Camonica, 
Bathe,  I  believe,  the  feet  of  Apennine, 
The  waters  of  a  thousand  springs  and  more 
Which  sink  to  rest  at  last  within  that  lake." 

The  Divine  Comedy  has  this  in  common 
with  the  Bible  that  however  much  it  be  studied 
it  always  discloses  to  its  votaries  something 
new.  It  requires  thought,  deep  thought  to 
sound  its  depths;  but  it  carries  with  it  a  rich 
reward.  From  whatever  point  it  is  approached 
it  opens  to  the  pilgrim  beauties  and  enchant- 
ments. For  it  is,  in  short,  the  greatest  marvel 
performed  by  the  mind  of  man.  It  is  as 
much  a  miracle  as  the  work  of  Joan  of  Arc. 

*' Dante  is  indeed,"  as  says  one  of  his  coni- 
mentators,  "a  great  part  of  Italy."  Italy  is 
bone  of  his  bone  and  flesh  of  his  flesh.  He 
is  the  father  of  Italian  Nationality;  the  in- 
spirer  of  Italian  Ideality;  the  authority  for 
Italian  Aspiration.  This  is  why  the  people  of 
the  Trentino  when  held  by  the  throat  by  Aus- 
trian power,  erected  at  the  time  of  the  cele- 
bration  of  his   birth,   a   great   monument  to 

*  Inferno,  XX,  61-65. 


,1 1 


'; 


I 


i 


236 


DANTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


Dante— to  the  Father;  this  is  why  the  people 
of  Trieste  when  shackled  by  Austrian  chains 
claimed  as  their  privilege  to  send  the  lamp  and 
the  oil  to  burn  perpetually  where  his  sacred 
ashes  in  Ravenna  have  made  a  shrine  for  all 
ItaHans  and,  indeed,  for  all  lovers  of  Liberty 
throughout  the  world. 

He  has  trodden  in  high  companionship  the 
stony  ways  with  many  an  Italian  Exile  and 
Patriot;  with  them  has  climbed  the  steep  stairs 
and  for  them  has  sweetened  the  salty  bread  of 
others.  He  has  lightened  the  darkness  of 
many  an  Austrian  dungeon  and  cooled  the 
withering  heat  of  the  Piombi  and  many  an- 
other fiery  prison.  He  has  consoled  many 
an  Italian  martyr  on  the  scaffold.  He  has 
sung  in  the  heart  of  many  an  Italian  hero  on 
the  field  of  battle,  as  he  whispered  to  Battisti 
and  Sauro,  as  he  sang  to  the  gray  lines  of 
Italy's  sons  as  they  stormed  the  Assiago,  the 
Grappa,  and  the  Carso. 


i< 


IX 

DANTE  THE  MASTER 

This  study  has  not  attempted  to  present  in 
any  extension  of  detail  the  noble  work  of  Dante 
Alighieri  but  rather,  certain  thoughts  upon 
Dante  himself  and  the  influence  on  the  world 
of  his  work,  as  a  poet;  as  a  philosopher,  as 
a  teacher — as  a  world-teacher,  the  Master  of 
Chaucer  and    Spenser   and    Shakespeare   and 

Milton. 

And  this  has  been  done  chiefly,  because  it 
has  been  felt  that  it  would  be  too  audacious  to 
attempt  to  quote  extensively  extracts  from  the 
greatest  of  poets  and  artists  in  a  tongue  pos- 
sibly difiicult  even  for  Italians,  and  whose 
beauty  can  only  be  suitably  rendered  by  one 
who  knows  that  tongue  perfectly.  How  can 
one  successfully  present  parts  of  a  work,  com- 
plete as  a  whole,  whose  harmonies  range  from 
the  majestic  grandeur  of  sublimity,  compara- 
ble only  to  the  music  of  the  spheres,  to  the 
delicate  and  melodious  flutings  of  birds  ? 

237 


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»38  DAyTE  AND  HIS  INFLUENCE 


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What  I  have  desired  is  as  an  American  to 
do  honor  to  Italy  and  her  greatest  poet;  to 
suggest  the  great  debt  that  we  Americans— 
not  only  Americans  of  Italian  blood,  but  other 
of  us,  Americans  of  English  blood,  owe  to  him 
who  six  hundred  years  ago,  dying  in  exile,  left, 
as  a  heritage  to  us  all,  the  heritage  of  a  compre- 
hension of  Liberty;  of  Justice;  of  fear  of  God; 
of  Devotion  to  Him;  of  Reverence  for  Women: 
a  heritage  that  has  set  the  world  forward  and 
that,  if  rightly  guarded,  will  in  time  bring  about 
the    realization   of   Dante's    divine   vision    of 
Peace  and  Love  and  the  coming  of  the  King- 
dom  of  Right   in   the   inefFable   light   of  the 
Paradise  of  God. 

Now  having  given  these  pictures  from  the 
entrancing  scenes  with  which  his  work  is  filled 
as  well  as  with  those  terrible  scenes  (mainly 
from  the  vision  of  Hell)  which  shock  the  sen- 
sitive mind,  I  must  recur  to  the  great  fact  that 
all  these  scenes,  the  dreadful  and  the  beau- 
tiful alike,  are  but  the  outer  garment  of  the 
spirit  of  the  poem,  under  which  Hes  the  pro- 
foundest  thought  that  the  human  mind  is  capa- 
ble of.  They  are  but  as  the  arabesques  on  the 
sword  which  Homer  holds  as  the  Emblem  of  his 
imperial  authority  over  all  the  Masters  of  Song. 


DA  NTS  THE  MASTER 


239 


Its  thought  goes  to  the  bottom  of  the  destiny 
of  the  Human  Soul  and  endeavors  to  solve  it 
all.  It  deals  with  the  basic  structure  of  Human 
Society  and  analyzes  alike  the  working  of  the 
mind  and  the  passion  of  the  soul;  reasons  of 
the  foundations  of  Creation  and  of  Life,  seeks 
and  discloses  the  primal  principles  of  Justice 
and  Right  while  it  pictures  the  ceaseless  war- 
fare between  Righteousness  and  wrong. 

In  Dante  we  find  the  whole  cycle  of  man's 
intellectual  life.     In  youth  he  sings  of  Love— 
wholly  of  Love,  as  is  fitting  to  Youth.     It  is, 
as  Cariyle  has  observed,  the  singing-time.     In 
middle   age,   chastened   by  the   experience  of 
Love,  he,  under  mastery  of  Reason,  wrote  of 
Justice,  Equity,  and  Truth.     As  he  grew  older 
and  found  deeper  experience  of  aspirarion  and 
strife  and  sorrow,  his  mind,  broadened  and  ele- 
vated, took  in  a  loftier  vision  and  a  vaster 
scope  and  he  sang  of  Divine  Might,  Majesty 
and    Dominion,    and    of  Divine   Justice    and 
Mercy.    Yet  all  through  the  whole  of  his  Life 
Love  ruled  and  gave  the  true  direction  to  his 
song    which    becomes    a    part    of   the    great 
harmony  in  which   under  Love's  sway  move 
the  sun  and  all  the  other  stars. 


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